


Love Not Given Lightly

by threerings



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Bottom Fenris (Dragon Age), Bottom Hawke (Dragon Age), But you can imagine differently, Developing Relationship, Dom Fenris (Dragon Age), Dom/sub, Fenris and Hawke working through that, Kink Negotiation, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Slave Fenris, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rogue Hawke (Dragon Age), Sub Hawke (Dragon Age), Switching, Takes place over the course of Act Two, Top Fenris (Dragon Age), Top Hawke (Dragon Age), Under-negotiated Kink, Voice Kink, With the healing power of BDSM, mostly because it's a fantasy universe, no really, smut and feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:21:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23061616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threerings/pseuds/threerings
Summary: “If we’re doing this,” said Fenris from his chair.  “There need to be some rules.”  Hawke glanced at him and nodded his agreement.  He looked tense, gripping the armrests of his chair with his long nails.  “First, I need you to promise not to touch me,” he said, and Hawke felt a flutter of disappointment.  “Without express permission.”Hawke looked back at him.  “I promise,” he said.  Fenris acknowledged this with a little incline of his head.“Secondly, I must be in control.  You follow all my commands, no argument.”  Hawke paused in his movements to let the pulse of desire those words ignited pass through him.  “Is that a problem?” asked Fenris behind him.He turned with a smile.  “No.  I think it’s the opposite of a problem.”  The elf’s eyebrows went up.“A Hawke who won’t argue?  I’ll believe it when I see it.”“In this context, I think I’ll be obedient as a lamb.”
Relationships: Fenris/Hawke (Dragon Age), Fenris/Male Hawke
Comments: 40
Kudos: 207





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Would you believe I've been working on this story for two years? It's been one I've returned to here and there between other projects in other fandoms. And finally it's written!
> 
> Here's part 1 of 3.
> 
> TW: for trauma related to past sexual abuse and rape. There is no in-depth discussion or description of those events, but if you have any specific concerns feel free to reach out here or on Tumblr (@three--rings) and I'll go into detail.

After the way Fenris acted when they found Hadriana, Hawke had thought, perhaps, that something important had been fractured between them, but then Fenris showed up at his house to apologize, to explain. When Fenris finished by saying, “But I didn’t come here to burden you further...,” Hawke reached out to stop him.

“You don’t need to leave, Fenris.” He grabbed Fenris by the arm. At that touch on his arm, Fenris’s tattoos lit and he turned and slammed Hawke against the wall. Rage filled his face for just an instant, and then drained, leaving sorrow. Hawke lunged forward, without even thinking, reached for the other man. His lips landed lower than he’d expected, not on Fenris’s lips but under his raised chin. He pressed a gentle kiss there, hearing how the elf’s breath caught in his throat. Hawke spun them both, trapping Fenris against the wall that he himself leaned against just a moment before. He ducked his head to kiss his throat again and then Fenris was holding onto him and he was being kissed back. 

Hawke’s body lit up with warmth as Fenris’s lips closed over his own. Part of him was still surprised this was really happening, still expecting to suddenly wake and find this was a dream. _One of those dreams, again._ But as far as he could tell this was really real and Fenris’s arms were tight around him, the edges of his armor digging in a little painfully as Hawke tried to return the embrace. 

Then his disbelief shattered and he was overtaken by a deep, thrumming _want_ and he pushed Fenris up against the wall with a growl, grabbing the back of his neck and pressing his whole body against him, hard. 

He felt a shudder go through the elf and then Fenris’s body went stiff. The lips against his own froze and then Fenris sank, sliding down Hawke’s body, going to his knees with a solid thump. His hands gripped Hawke’s thighs and he looked up, his expression lost. Then he emitted an angry growl and lowered his head, slumping down in a posture of despair. 

Hawke stood frozen above him, his hands still raised where they had held onto Fenris, his mouth open in shock at the sudden collapse of the man at his feet. He had no idea what just happened. But something in Fenris’s posture told him that he was struggling, perhaps even weeping, though he made no sound. He waited for a few moments to see if Fenris looked up or offered an explanation. The elf was motionless except for a very subtle quavering of his spine where it hunched over himself. 

Hawke took a step back and then lowered himself to one knee. “Fenris?” he asked softly, trying to get a look at the elf’s face. “Are you...alright?” Fenris made a sound in response, something that might be a laugh or possibly, awfully, a sob.

“No,” he said and his voice echoed with finality. “I’m not alright. Very much not alright.” He heard the brittle irony that had been so thick in his friend’s voice when they’d first met. 

“Can you...tell me what’s going on?” asked Hawke, his heart seizing with fear, terror that he’d done the wrong thing, that he’ll say the wrong thing and make it worse.

Fenris shook his head, his hair floating out around his face. He didn’t look at Hawke, but he pushed himself to his feet. Hawke stood up as well, frowning and feeling sicker all the time. 

“I’m sorry, Hawke. This was a terrible idea. I’m not...I can’t do this. You should find someone else.” At no time did Fenris look at him as he spoke, instead studying the carpet. 

“What?” He hadn’t mean to say it as sharply as he did, and he inwardly cringed as Fenris flinched away. 

“I...I need to go,” stammered the elf, glancing at the door behind him. Hawke hated the thought of physically blocking his way and preventing him from leaving, so he took a step away from the door, but reached out all the same and caught hold of Fenris’s upper arm. 

“Fenris, wait,” he begged, voice cracking. “You can’t just leave.” They froze again like that, with Hawke holding his arm, Fenris staring at the door. 

“Trust me, Hawke, please. It’s best if I just go.” There was something new in Fenris’ voice. It sounded a little like disgust. 

“Look, please, just...will you just tell me?” He looked around desperate to keep Fenris from leaving, finding no inspiration. “Did I do something? I’m sorry if--”

“It’s not you,” said Fenris, voice hollow. “It’s very much me.” Hawke stared at the side of Fenris’s face for several more frozen moments. Then he released his grip on his arm.

“Okay, look,” he started, pushing his hand through his hair. “I’m not going to hold you here against your will and demand an explanation. But, please, I...I need to know what...I’m worried about you.” Fenris turned his body so his face was entirely hidden, so all Hawke could see was his back.

“Do...do you want something to drink? Some wine or brandy or whatever?” Anything to keep him there. “Cause I could use a drink, maybe.” To his relief he saw some small portion of tension leave Fenris’s shoulders and he nodded.

“Yeah. Brandy.” His voice was rough and cracked but Hawke smiled as he pushed past him.

“Okay, just...come into the parlor.” Hawke ushered him quickly through the main hall, waving off Bodahn’s words of greeting. He shut the door of the room behind them for privacy and went to pour the drinks. When he turned around, he saw Fenris had collapsed into a chair, staring blankly ahead. He didn’t meet Hawke’s eyes as he took the glass from his hand.

Hawke settled in another chair, a few feet away, and sipped at the dark golden liquid. Brandy wasn’t really his drink, but it was something a gentleman had on hand, according to Bodahn, and so he kept it. At the moment all that mattered was that it was strong and burned his throat, helping to push down some of the panic he felt at the evening’s events.

Neither of them spoke, and the silence grew heavier. Finally he had to ask again. “Did I do something wrong?”

Fenris’s face flickered and he smiled sadly at the floor. “Not...” His voice trailed off. “Danarius,” he said in a much deeper and darker tone. It sounded like a complete sentence. After several seconds of silence he finally continued, “Danarius used to grab me like that.” The words echoed in the silence and Hawke’s stomach turned a somersault. “By the neck,” Fenris elaborated.

“Oh,” was all he could manage. “I...I’m sorry?”

“Not your fault.” And again his words sounded like heavy stones falling from his lips. “I was his toy. His plaything. He got every kind of enjoyment he could out of me.” Fenris’s voice had gone cold and light. “He trained me for his pleasure, to respond automatically, to give him everything.” 

The words were vague and distanced but Hawke pictured terribly specific images as he spoke. He hadn’t thought of this before, the possibility that Fenris had been _that_ kind of slave to his master, and the thought sickened him further. A hot anger built in his throat as well, a desire to hunt down the magister and give him what he was owed. He looked back at Fenris to catch a glimpse of the elf watching him. He’d seen his reaction.

“So when you touched me like him, I reacted as he taught me. I dropped to my knees to service you,” Fenris continued. Hawke held his breath for several moments to see if there was more to come. There didn’t seem to be, so he took a shaky breath and thought frantically. He couldn’t think of what he could possibly say. The only words that came to mind were those he’d already said, ‘I’m sorry,’ and they seemed like a bad idea to say again.

“I don’t know what to say,” he confessed finally. Fenris gave a humorless snort.

“No,” he agreed. “It’s been years. I thought, maybe...but clearly I was wrong. I’ll always be his creature.”

“No,” objected Hawke automatically. “No, you’re not.” Fenris looked at him then, at last, his eyes hot. 

“No? You saw! What am I but what he made me? I kill as he taught me and apparently I also...” Fenris waved his hand in the air to indicate what he did not say.

The unsaid words were nearly audible between them. After several moments Hawke shook his head. “You’re much more than that, Fenris. You...you _can_ be more.” Fenris just scowled more fiercely. “I don’t believe it’s impossible for us. It was just...unexpected for both of us. Now that I know, I can be more careful. We can figure it out together.” He was leaning forward as far as he could without falling off the end of the bed, straining towards Fenris, who looked up at him, his eyes sad but not as desolate as they had looked a few moments before.

“You really want that? Still?” Hawke frowned at the genuine surprise in the elf’s tone. 

“I...yes? Did you think I’d change my mind so easily?” 

A very slight hint of a smile showed on Fenris’s face for a moment. “Hmm, you’re always stubborn.” 

“Did you think I wouldn’t want you? Because of _this_?” Hawke longed to approach him, to reach out to him, but he held himself back, only leaning forward in his chair, staring at Fenris, pleading with his eyes.

“Because I was...” Fenris’s voice faltered. “Because I was his _whore_? Because I let him have me over and over? Any way he wanted? Let him give me to his friends as a plaything? Because I _liked_ it? Craved it? Begged him for it?” He stood suddenly, approaching within a foot of Hawke, glaring viciously down at him. His voice was ragged and so was his face, and Hawke trembled in the wake of his words, instinctively leaning back. He felt tears threaten behind his eyes and knew he couldn’t let them show, or Fenris would probably run. He held himself still as best he could, until Fenris finally sighed and slumped, turning around suddenly but not moving.

Hawke stood slowly, carefully, afraid to startle the elf. He was breathing hard as he took a step forward, until he was right behind Fenris, only a few scant inches of air between them. “Fenris,” he said evenly, raising a hand hesitantly. When the body in front of him didn’t move away, he slowly placed his hand on his upper arm, covering a bit of exposed skin. Fenris twitched in reaction, but didn’t pull away. He could hear the elf’s breathing, louder even than his own. Hawke took a step forward, closing the distance and letting his body brush lightly against his back. Once again, a shiver of reaction, but Fenris held himself stiffly, unmoving. 

“I can’t pretend to understand what that all means for you,” he said softly. “I don’t know what it would mean for us...but I’m willing to try. I want to.” He bit his lip, repressing the urge to keep talking, keep babbling, and instead waited, feeling the rhythm of Fenris’s breaths in how his armor shifted against his chest.

“I...I don’t know if I can do it, Hawke,” said Fenris, and he sounded like the man Hawke had come to know when they were alone, drinking wine in Fenris’s moldy old mansion. 

“Well, if you want to try, I’ll be here,” he said, wanting so badly to bend forward and place a kiss on the elf’s silver hair, but holding himself back. 

“I...thank you, Hawke,” said Fenris, covering Hawke’s hand on his arm with his own for just a moment, before stepping forward and reaching for the door. He looked back once as he left, and Hawke repressed a shiver as he kept himself from moving.

* * *

Nearly a week later, Hawke and some of his friends were hunting demons on Sundermount once again. They’d spent the day and part of the night clearing out a group of restless spirits that were troubling the Dalish. As night proper set in, they made their way back down the trail to a clearing not far from the Dalish to make camp. Here they were fairly safe, with Dalish scouts patrolling not far away, so they erected two tents and built a good sized fire.

And then the deliberations about tent sharing began, as they always did. On this occasion Hawke was accompanied by Isabella, Merrill, and Fenris. It was the first time he’d asked Fenris to come with him since their awkward evening together at Hawke’s house. He hadn’t wanted to intrude, but after a few days he grew worried, so he’d been grateful for this excuse to see him. He hadn’t considered the question of sleeping arrangements, though.

“So I guess it’s you and me, kitten,” said Isabella to Merrill when she started yawning. 

“Uh.” Hawke glanced at Fenris, wondering what he was thinking. 

“Yes, Hawke?” asked Merrill sweetly.

“Oh, I was just thinking it doesn’t half to be by gender,” he offered weakly. Now that he considered it, he couldn’t come up with an alternate suggestion that made better sense. “I mean, you know, I’m not interested in women, so, it wouldn’t matter if...” He waved a hand vaguely. 

Isabella grinned at him and then canted her gaze over at Fenris. “Well, if you want to bunk with Merrill, I guess I could make do with a different elf.” She traced down and back up Fenris’s frame with a barely concealed leer. Hot jealousy flared in Hawke’s chest at the sudden image of Isabella pressed up to Fenris. He had a sudden thought that maybe it would be easier for Fenris with a woman, someone who reminded him less of his former master. He swallowed against a sick feeling.

“No, no, nevermind, forget I said anything,” he said hastily, standing up. “You girls stick together, Fenris and I will be in this tent.” He backed towards the tent behind Fenris. He glanced to the side to make sure he wasn’t going to object, but Fenris just frowned at him. Hawke cleared his throat and felt his cheeks heat and then called goodnight before ducking through the flap.

He concentrated on spreading out his bedroll and then removing his armor, not looking up when he heard Fenris enter behind him. He heard the elf securing the closure of the flap and remove his own armor before coming closer to Hawke to make his own bed. 

“Hawke, is there a problem?” he asked quietly without looking up from what he was doing. “If you’d prefer not to sleep in the same tent--”

“--no, no, that’s not...” Hawke sighed heavily, sitting on his bed. “I guess I didn’t know if you...would rather not.”

“Oh.” Fenris smoothed out the bedding then sat as well. “No, it’s not...not an issue. You changed your mind rather quickly,” he added. 

Hawke laughed dryly. “Well, err, Isabella...maybe I felt a little...jealous?”

Fenris looked up at him, amusement on his face. “Of Isabella? You think I’d be interested in her?”

“Uh, well, she’s very attractive...I mean, objectively...”

“Hmm, well,” Fenris smirked a bit, meeting his eyes briefly. “Not compared to you.” 

All the breath seemed to leave his lungs at once, and he felt his cock grow heavy. He’d tried to keep himself from thinking about Fenris in a sexual way for the past day he’d been in his presence, but now the desire hit him all at once. He could tell it showed on his face, too, from the way Fenris reacted, the way his expression grew closed.

“Fenris,” he breathed, “maybe I was worried I wouldn’t be able to...sleep. Being so close to you.” Fenris’s gaze felt heavy as it moved over his face, then down, down his throat and his chest, and then to his lap, where his smallclothes bulged out over his growing erection. He watched Fenris’s face as the elf stared intently at his cock, his pulse pounding his his ears. 

“Maybe you should take care of that,” said Fenris’s voice, deep and almost dangerous. 

“What?” he asked breathlessly. 

“If you can’t sleep, you should handle that first,” he said, his eyes rising to meet Hawke’s. They were dark, only a sliver of green iris showing around widely dilated pupils. Hawke stared stupidly for several more breaths.

“You mean...”

“I mean you should take out your cock and touch yourself, until you come,” said Fenris with precise enunciation. Hawke felt light-headed and couldn’t look away. He was rock hard now, the press of his erection against his clothing painful from the awkward angle, so he reached down and palmed himself, shifting it to lie against his belly. 

“Turn off the light,” he said, managing only a whisper. 

Fenris smiled. “Then how can I watch you?” Hawke’s eyes shut and his head fell back, a groan coming from his throat. “Shh,” hummed Fenris softly, “don’t want the others to hear.” 

Hawke squeezed his eyes tightly and took several breaths to gather himself. He didn’t know exactly what Fenris was doing or why. He could barely think straight at the moment, his pulse pounding and breath coming shallowly. His hand was still on his cock, squeezing it through fabric. There wasn’t really a question of whether he was going to do as Fenris said or not. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than to do exactly as he’d said. So, with his eyes still shut, he unbuttoned the flap of his clothes and freed his cock to the night air. 

He started slowly, stroking his hand up from the base to tip, biting his lip to hold back another groan at the relief. He stretched back against the bedroll, his spine arching slightly. He couldn’t imagine how this looked, probably completely ridiculous, so he cracked open his eyes. Fenris was sitting cross-legged on his bedroll, staring intently at the movement of his hand on his prick. He look transfixed, then when Hawke hesitated, his eyes flicked up. 

“Keep going,” he said softly, something unsure flickering in his eyes as their gazes met. 

“Okay,” said Hawke, moving his hand once more. Fenris’s emerald gaze flicked back down and his tongue licked quickly out across his lips.

“Yes, like that,” he breathed, and Hawke felt something warm in his chest at the thought that Fenris was actually really enjoying this. He closed his eyes again and stroked himself more firmly, the way he did normally, dragging his thumb across the head and smearing the fluid there down. “Yes,” said Fenris again, and his voice was so beautiful, even in a whisper. 

“Talk to me,” he begged, keeping his eyes closed, his face flushed from arousal and embarrassment both. 

“Hawke,” said Fenris, then he heard a shifting sound and he thought for a minute he was going to touch him, but no. His eyes flicked open and he saw Fenris was stretched out now, his head much closer to Hawke’s, eyes still watching the activity below. “Your cock is gorgeous, Hawke. Has anyone ever told you that?” 

Hawke choked a bit at that and turned it into a chuckle. “Uh, I don’t think so.” 

“Well it is. You’re leaking a lot, are you getting close?” He let his head fall back and arched his back at that, something about the question making him whimper. “Slow down,” instructed Fenris. “Slower, yes, we don’t want this over too soon, do we?” Hawke whimpered again. “Do you like this, Hawke?”

“Yes, Maker, yes,” he replied breathlessly. 

“You’re speeding up again.” Fenris’s voice was a warning. It made Hawke shiver deliciously. 

“Maker, Fenris,” he moaned. “Please.”

“Please, what, Hawke?” When he opened his eyes, the elf next to him looked far too amused. But he also looked out of breath, which thrilled him. 

“Please, let me...let me come.” His eyes were still open so he saw the flare of Fenris’s eyes and the way his lips parted in reaction to Hawke’s words. Then Fenris took his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down and Hawke groaned at the sight. He must have been loud, because alarm flared in the elf’s face and his hand suddenly clamped down over Hawke’s mouth. 

And that was it, Hawke’s back arched and he was coming, hot and so hard against his stomach, his hand pulling hard as he pulsed, the feel of Fenris’s hand against his lips like a brand. He was grateful for the muffling effect of the hand because he keened as he came, unable to hold back entirely. 

His body fell back against the ground, muscles melting with the warmth of release. The hand lifted from his lips, so he sucked air in greedily. It took a while before Hawke felt himself refocus, blinking as he looked over to his companion. Fenris was still lying as he had been before, body turned towards Hawke, watching him. 

“What...what about you?” Hawke asked. Fenris gave a small smile and shook his head.

“I...that was enough. For me,” he said, still with a smile, but his voice sounded sad. Hawke opened his mouth to protest, to offer, but Fenris quickly turned away, pulling his blanket over himself. “Goodnight, Hawke,” he said.

Hawke took several centering breaths but then reached over and extinguished the lamp. After hastily wiping away the mess he’d made, he turned his back to Fenris in the darkness and shut his eyes. He still seemed to feel the weight of those green eyes on him,however, watching him hungrily. Despite everything his fatigue claimed him and he slept quickly.

* * *

When they returned to Kirkwall the following day, Fenris took his leave quickly, melting away once they reached Hightown. Hawke frowned, wondering if the elf was going to start avoiding him once more. 

Once he’d said goodbye to his other friends he headed home. His bed that night felt empty, and he couldn’t get to sleep until he’d brought himself to orgasm, imagining Fenris’s voice calling instructions to him from out of the dark. 

The following day he decided to face the issue head on, so he went to the abandoned mansion. Once inside, he called out to alert Fenris of his identity. He appeared silhouetted in the doorway of the room in which he slept.

“Hawke,” he greeted, no indication in his tone whether he welcomed the visit or not. 

“Fenris,” Hawke returned, copying the blank tone with a quirk of his lips. As he approached the doorway and could see the elf more clearly, he thought Fenris looked wary. “I thought we should probably talk,” he offered, which earned him a frown.

“Did you?” he asked, turning and walking back into his room. He sat in a chair near the burning fire, not looking at Hawke as he did. Despite the lack of invitation, Hawke followed him and sat in the second nearby chair. “You want to talk? That’s all?”

Hawke still couldn’t read his tone and he huffed a breath in frustration. “There are a lot of things I want, Fenris,” he said lowly. “But it seems like it would be a good idea to talk about...what happens now.” 

There were several long moments of silence. “I think maybe it was a mistake,” said Fenris. 

“You...do?” Hawke’s heart clenched in his chest. “Why?”

Fenris tilted his head to one side. “I thought...I thought something would be better than nothing. Maybe I was wrong.” 

Hawke’s pulse raced in alarm. “Did you not like it?”

Now Fenris looked at him. “No! No. I mean, I did.” He looked back at the fire. “I did like it. Quite a bit. But it didn’t stop me wanting more.” 

_I’ll give you more. I’ll give you anything,_ Hawke thought desperately. “I...I enjoyed it very much,” he said instead. “I can’t stop thinking about it. About your voice, telling me what to do...”

Fenris looked at him with a measuring gaze. “You liked that? Being told what to do?” His voice went slightly darker on the last sentence, and Hawke repressed a shiver. He nodded eagerly. 

“Did you like telling me what to do?” he asked. He thought he saw the green eyes across from him sparkle. Fenris nodded with a smile. “Would you do it again?” Hawke breathed. Now the elf’s nostrils flared and his eyes darkened.

“Right now?” he asked, voice still low but breathy. 

“If you want,” said Hawke. “Only if you want it.” He gazed at Fenris, willing him to understand how deeply he meant the words. _Only ever what you want._ Fenris watched him for several still seconds, and then his hand moved. It had been resting lightly on his knee, but he moved it slowly up his thigh. Hawke stared, his mouth going dry as he watched Fenris’s fingers settle over the outline of his cock, showing through his leggings. He watched a finger trace up the length of the clear bulge and he made a soft, involuntary sound. He wanted to see it. He wanted to touch. He wanted, so, so much to take that length in his mouth, to hear Fenris’s sounds of pleasure.

“Let me,” he whispered, before he’d known he was going to speak. He flicked his eyes up in alarm and saw the widening of his friend’s eyes. 

“Let you what?”

“Uh, let me...” he stopped, unsure. “I want...to give you pleasure,” he finished awkwardly.

Fenris watched him a few more moments in consideration. “Then take off your clothes,” he said and Hawke shuddered. He stood up and began removing his armor, unbuckling numerous straps and setting leather pieces aside one by one.

“If we’re doing this,” said Fenris from his chair. “There need to be some rules.” Hawke glanced at him and nodded his agreement. He looked tense, gripping the armrests of his chair with his long nails. “First, I need you to promise not to touch me,” he said, and Hawke felt a flutter of disappointment. “Without express permission.” 

Hawke looked back at him. “I promise,” he said. Fenris acknowledged this with a little incline of his head.

“Secondly, I must be in control. You follow all my commands, no argument.” Hawke paused in his movements to let the pulse of desire those words ignited pass through him. “Is that a problem?” asked Fenris behind him.

He turned with a smile. “No. I think it’s the opposite of a problem.” The elf’s eyebrows went up.

“A Hawke who won’t argue? I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“In this context, I think I’ll be obedient as a lamb.” He grinned over his shoulder, noting the way Fenris’s cheeks flushed darker. 

“Which brings me to another rule: tell me if you don’t like something. I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t enjoy.” The words were spoken more quietly than the other rules, and in them Hawke heard the echoes of his past. He nodded silently to show his understanding. He pulled his tunic over his head and turned to face the chair.

“Ok, got it,” he said, slipping his thumbs under his waistband and tugging downward. He enjoyed the sight of Fenris’s face as he stripped off the last of his clothes, revealing his thoroughly stiff erection. Fenris’s mouth parted slightly at the sight and his chest moved in rapid rhythm. “What now?”

Fenris broke off from staring at his reddened cock to look around the room. “Go lie on the bed,” he said curtly. Hawke flushed at the words and the strength of his own reaction to them. He stepped towards the pallet in the corner, the rumple of sheets where Fenris spent his nights. As he lowered himself down he inhaled, savoring the scent that rose from them. 

As he stretched himself out, Fenris followed, bringing a chair with him and sitting it down a short distance from the mattress. He sat, still fully clothed in tunic and leggings, and looked down at Hawke, his eyes obviously tracing his full body. Hawke shivered, his cock bobbing with the movement. Fenris met his eyes then. 

“Touch your chest,” he said, and Hawke hesitated before complying. He raised one hand haltingly and dragged it down the center of his chest. Fenris smirked. “Your nipples, touch them for me,” he said, and the words made his cock twitch. _For me_ echoed in Hawke’s mind as he brought his fingers to his nipples. They were already hard, but he moaned a little as he squeezed them, his eyes slipping closed. “That’s it,” said that incredible velvet voice. “Harder.” And he pinched harder, drawing a gasp from between his lips. 

He heard the shift of movement and he opened his eyes to see Fenris touching himself once again through his clothing. He could see the outline of his cock, and it made his mouth water. He moaned and unthinking, let one of his hands dip down towards his own cock.

“Stop,” ordered Fenris and he froze. He looked up to see if he was angry, but Fenris smirked at him. “Good boy,” he said, and Hawke arched his back at the way the words made him feel. “Oh,” came a soft exhalation from above him. “Touch yourself now,” he breathed, “Lightly.” 

And Hawke obeyed, letting his hand fall onto his aching cock, gripping it lightly and then drawing two of his fingers over the head. He bit back a groan. “No,” said that voice. “Let me hear you, Hawke.” So Hawke groaned as he starting working himself in earnest. His touch grew more forceful, he couldn’t hold back completely. 

“Fuck,” he gasped as he felt himself far too close to the edge too quickly. He heard a rustle of clothing and looked up to see Fenris’s hand inside his clothing, touching himself out of sight. He moaned in desire. “Let me see,” he begged, delighted when a full-body shiver passed through Fenris in response. 

“Come for me, first,” the elf growled, and Hawke redoubled the efforts of his hand. _Come for me. For me_ echoed in his ears as he let himself go, his hips lifting off the mattress as he tugged, breathing harsh, sweat pooling on his stomach and between his thighs. 

“Gods, Fenris, fuck,” he panted, and received another growl in response. He looked up, all the way up to the flushed face of the elf above him and then his head fell back and his eyes closed as he came. 

It took him hard and fast and he stroked through it, coaxing the last drops onto his stomach. He had barely finished before his eyes focused back on the movement within Fenris’s leggings. “Please,” he gasped. He moaned in gratitude as Fenris pushed the fabric out of the way, pulling his length out, before going back to stroking it. 

It took all of his self-control not to lean forward and take it in his mouth. He did sit up, though, eyes flicking between the pink cock and the face above, wondering if he would be given permission. He thought Fenris looked close, the way his mouth was twisted, the way he panted. “Gonna come on your face,” he grunted, and Hawke’s whole body spasmed with pleasure at the thought. 

“Yes,” he hissed, trying to position himself. And then it was happening, hot drops hitting his face, his mouth, his nose, his cheek. Fenris didn’t make any noise as he came, to his disappointment, but his face was scrunched up, his teeth digging into his bottom lip so hard it was white. 

Hawke sat, breathing heavily, trying not to move and yet not knowing precisely what to do. He reached out his tongue and swiped some of the fluid into his mouth, feeling almost guilty as he did so, the action feeling intimate. 

“Just...wait a minute and I’ll clean you up,” said Fenris, sounding out of breath. He opened his eyes to see the elf stand and walk to the table for a piece of sackcloth. He returned and sat, reaching out with the cloth to wipe Hawke’s face clean gently. Hawke trembled at his touch, feeling the way Fenris cradled the side of his head in one hand while he wiped with the other. He felt silly, foolish almost, to react so strongly to so simple a thing, but, well, Fenris inspired that in him he supposed. 

Fenris sat back, releasing his head and then extended the cloth to him, gesturing to the cooling mess on his own stomach. “Oh, right,” Hawke said, before taking the cloth and cleaning himself up. When he looked back, Fenris’s clothing was once more in place and he was watching Hawke with an indistinct expression. 

Hawke slid backwards to rest his back against the wall, stretching out his legs. “So,” he said, his voice sounding shaky to his own ears. 

“So,” echoed Fenris. And then he couldn’t hold back any longer, so Hawke chuckled. He was relieved when Fenris smiled in response. 

“Uh, what...now?” he asked, smiling at the awkwardness of the situation. 

“I’m not exactly...expert in this sort of thing, you know,” said Fenris with some of his usual sarcasm. 

“Well neither am I,” he returned. He paused. “That was...good, though.” 

“Was it?” It sounded like the answer was important to Fenris.

“Yeah,” he said, meeting his eyes. “Yeah. Um, I...like your voice. Telling me what to do.” He licked his lips. “And seeing you.” 

“It wasn’t too much? The...end, that is.” The elf’s cheeks went pink. _Adorable_

“No, no, I...” Hawke hesitated, rubbing his jaw a bit. “I wanted to suck your cock so badly,” he said quietly. “But that was...the next best thing.” He felt his own cheeks burn at the confession. He didn’t look up for a moment, but when he did Fenris was looking at him with consideration. 

“Good to know,” he said.

* * *

For a while after that things got busy again, and Hawke was rushing around putting out fires all over Kirkwall and environs. The next time he had time to see Fenris, they were once again traveling to the Wounded Coast and fighting side by side. He couldn’t help looking forward to making camp and the time when they would be alone once more. He stripped himself to the skin and lay down on his bedroll, eyeing Fenris expectantly. The elf gave a huff of laughter when he turned and saw Hawke stretched out and waiting. 

Once more Fenris talked him through touching himself, this time stroking his own cock at the same pace. They both watched each other eagerly, their bodies tilted to face one another, eyes flicking from groin to flushed face and back. Hawke couldn’t decide which made him hotter: watching the desperate way Fenris tugged on his cock or the way he bit his lip to smother any sounds, sweat plastering his face to his forehead. 

They came almost at the same time, Fenris following after Hawke within a few seconds. As they turned out the lantern and snuggled into their blankets, Hawke wished he could close the distance between them and pull Fenris into an embrace. But he pushed that desire down and closed his eyes, sleep taking him quickly. 

Once they returned to Kirkwall, Hawke stayed at his home only long enough to bathe and eat dinner with his mother before going back out into the cool night. He made some excuse about a contact he needed to find, but in truth he headed directly to Fenris’s mansion. 

Fenris looked somewhat surprised to see Hawke, but not disappointed. He offered him a glass of the wine he was drinking and for some minutes they sat in front of the fire, drinking quietly, each wrapped up in their own thoughts. Hawke felt Fenris’s eyes on him occasionally though, and eventually he turned and met the green gaze. 

“Is it alright that I came?” he asked, still not sure of the nature of their involvement. 

“Yes,” said Fenris simply. “Was there something specific you wanted?” he added with a gleam in his eye. Hawke smiled and felt his cheeks heat slightly. The truth was he felt like there was a fire lit inside him, one that each intimacy with Fenris only made burn hotter. 

“I...” he started. “I can’t stop thinking of you. Of...wanting you.” He looked up at Fenris to gauge his response. The elf’s finely carved lips were parted slightly, and he was watching Hawke intently. “Do you...” continued Hawke, then he swallowed and summoned his courage. “Do you have any use for me?” he asked with a mask of innocent obedience. 

Fenris blew out a breath, his eyes not moving from Hawke’s face. “Hmm,” he said. “you’re awfully eager, aren’t you?” Hawke could just make out the playful glitter of his eyes and the slight curl of one corner of his lips. 

“Yes,” he replied with complete conviction. He uncrossed his legs, letting them fall open, showing the increasingly obvious bulge between them. Fenris took him in without any obvious change of expression, tapping one long finger against the arm of his chair in thought. 

“Very well,” he said at last. “Take off your clothes.” Hawke hurried to comply, leaving his various bits of leather and cloth garments strewn haphazardly around the chair. When he stood naked in front of Fenris, erection bobbing in between them, Fenris smiled, looking softer and more himself than he had the moment before. 

“Gorgeous,” he whispered. Then cleared his throat and straightened. “Sit back in the chair,” he ordered, voice firm once more. Hawke complied, the feeling of the warmed leather of the chair against his bare skin strange but arousing. 

“Spread your legs for me,” called Fenris, so Hawke did, letting his knees fall open as he had before. “Wider. Hook your knees over the arms.” Hawke adjusted himself so he could do this, sliding down the chair and lifting his legs until he could drape them open over the arms of the chair. It left him in quite an exposed pose, his genitals and ass bared to Fenris’s eyes. He shivered as cool air contacted sensitive skin. 

Fenris stood then, and Hawke nearly gasped, his breath catching in his throat. He had such a strong sense for a moment that he was going to come over, to touch him, and the deep desire and need for that thrummed through him before he could wrestle it back under control. Fenris looked down at him and there was a moment where Hawke again wondered if he really were considering bending down and directly contacting him. But the moment broke and Fenris turned and walked to the far side of the room. 

While he was gone, Hawke couldn’t resist reaching down and grasping his cock, which had begun to ache from being so hard. Suddenly Fenris was standing over him once again, a frown on his face as looked pointedly at Hawke’s hand. Maker, he’d forgotten how silently Fenris could move when he wanted to. Hawke hastily released his member and gave a sheepish, apologetic smile at the elf towering above him. 

“That’s the last time anyone is touching your cock for quite a while, Hawke,” he said fiercely and Hawke couldn’t hold back a whimper. He shifted his hips in an unconscious plea. Fenris curled one side of his mouth up again and then dropped a small, hard object onto Hawke’s chest. Hawke picked it up and looked at it. A small bottle of what looked like oil. _Oh,_ he thought, eyebrows raising.  
He realized Fenris was studying his reaction. “Alright?” he asked softly.

“I...” Hawke blinked. He had a bunch of questions about what exactly this meant, but the details really didn’t matter. The answer would still be the same. “Yes,” he replied with certitude. That won him a full smile from the elf standing over him. 

“Good,” he said. Fenris walked back to the chair opposite Hawke and sat down, relaxed. “I want you to fuck yourself.” Hawke felt his face heat at the words, despite not being surprised. He thought Fenris looked less casual than he was trying to appear as well. This was... _more_ than they had done so far. Something it was harder to write off as casual, a quick way to relieve tension. And Hawke was thrilled down to his toes.

He didn’t hesitate, but opened the bottle and coated the fingers of his right hand with the oil, drops falling to his belly as he worked the cork back inside. He reached down between his legs, shifting and spreading them wider until he thought Fenris had the best view possible. He circled his entrance, spreading the oil and enjoying the feel. His breath came faster as he began pressing one finger into himself, pausing to let his muscle adjust, and then sliding it the rest of the way in. He moaned at the feeling, something he hadn’t felt in a while, actually, but a sensation with pleasant memories attached. 

“Do you like that?” Fenris asked and he sounded a little breathless. Hawke smiled and nodded, working his finger out and back in.

“Yeah,” he said. “Feels good.” 

“Good. Do you do this when you’re alone?” 

“Uh, not really,” he admitted. “Not often. Mostly just with someone else.” He heard a hissing intake of breath from Fenris’s chair. He continued moving his finger, working around the tight muscle, trying to encourage it to relax further. 

“I didn’t know if Hawke, the hero of Kirkwall, let himself be fucked,” Fenris said, his voice sounding strained. 

“Why not?” Hawke returned, then to underline the point, inserted a second finger and arched his back at the sensation. Fenris didn’t answer so he opened his eyes to catch the elf watching the movements of his hand intently. Was it at all possible Hawke could tempt Fenris into fucking him? The idea was nearly overwhelming given how restrained their interactions had been, but Hawke couldn’t help that his mind kept returning to the thought. 

“Now curl your fingers up. Press that sensitive spot.” _It’d be easier if you did it for me_ he thought, but bit his lip to keep from saying aloud. Instead he shifted the angle of his hand, feeling for the right place inside himself. When he found it, he gave a grunt and Fenris smiled at him. “Yes, there. Keep stroking it, pressing it.”

Hawke did as he was told, warmth spreading through his thighs and up to the base of his cock. He shifted his hips up and down as he fucked into himself, hitting that tender spot each time. Very quickly he was breathless, wrist aching from the uncomfortable angle, but both his desire to follow Fenris’s instructions and his own need drove him on. He left hand rested on his inner thigh, holding his leg in place, but it crept in the direction of his pulsing cock as his need for release grew more insistent. 

“Ah-ah,” objected Fenris, leaning forward sharply. Hawke froze. “Put your left hand on the arm of the chair.” Hawke did so, his face burning. 

“I...I need...” He couldn’t make the words come. 

“Keep fucking yourself,” ordered Fenris. When he obeyed and his fingers hit their target again, Hawke gave a sob. “You’re not allowed to touch your cock, Hawke.” Hawke made a noise of complaint and need. “I know how badly you want to,” continued Fenris. “How much you want to come. But you’re going to come from nothing but your own fingers inside you.” 

Hawke moaned and tossed his head against the back of the chair, a denial of sorts. “Have you ever come like that before?” Fenris asked him. “From fucking yourself?”

“No,” he managed, noting there was far more whine in his tone than he liked. 

“What about from someone else’s fingers?”

“No,” he repeated. “Always been too eager.” Fenris laughed.

“You? Eager and in a rush? Charging in without thorough preparation? Surely you jest.” Hawke quirked a smile at him. Then he turned his hand a bit and moaned at the stimulation. “Yes, like that, let me hear you,” breathed Fenris from his chair. Hawke repeated the motion and gave another breathy moan, since it seemed to please him.

“What about from someone’s cock? Have you come from that?” 

“Yes.” 

“Ah. Good. Then it’s not impossible. I’m serious, Hawke. If you want to come, you have to make yourself come just from this.” Hawke groaned in complaint, but redoubled his efforts with his hand, quickening the pace of his fingers against the wall of his passage. He had no idea how much time passed, or how long he’d been fingering himself. He was lost in a haze of need and sensation, with the feeling of Fenris’s eyes burning trails along his skin. 

His desperation spiraled up, and he let out a frustrated keening wail. All of a sudden Fenris moved, his dark form standing to the side of Hawke’s chair, his hand holding Hawke’s left wrist in a grip of steel. Hawke realized his hand had slipped from the arm of the chair, towards his cock again. “I can’t,” he whined. “I can’t, I can’t.”

Fenris held his wrist firm. “You can, Hawke. You’re getting close, aren’t you? Your cock looks about ready to burst any moment. Keep going.” Hawke panted, feeling wet trails running down his face, not sure if they were drops of sweat or tears of frustration. 

“If you do this, if you come for me, I’ll let you suck my cock, Hawke.” A bolt of magical lightning seemed to pass through his body at the words and his spine arched until he almost slid off the chair. “Yes, that’s it, isn’t it? That’s what you want?” Fenris’s words were urgent now, and Hawke felt himself balanced on a knife’s edge, his vision blurred. “Come for me, do it.” And with another thrust of his hand, he did, his orgasm ripping through him forcefully, feeling violent. He thrashed as he came, grabbing at Fenris’s hand hard to hold him up as he flailed. When he came to rest he was barely in the chair at all, his head and shoulders resting on the seat and the rest of him crumpled on the floor, one arm stretching above him still holding on to Fenris. His heart thumped hard in his chest and he panted for breath. 

After a time of blinking and breathing, he managed to bring the world into focus around himself. He wiped his oily hand off on some piece of his own clothing that was under the tangle of his legs and then looked up. Fenris raised a brow when their eyes met and then he finally released Hawke’s left hand.

He brought his hands to his ties of his trousers and freed his cock, the hard length springing free directly into Hawke’s line of sight. Hawke pulled himself up to his knees hastily, moving into position at Fenris’s feet. He paused then, before touching any part of Fenris and looked up into his face, asking silent permission. “Go ahead,” said Fenris with a gravity that should have seemed out of place but which only made Hawke’s breath catch in his throat. 

He reached out and wrapped a hand around the base of Fenris’s cock and then leaned in and pressed his lips to the head. He parted his lips and licked a little, enjoying the first taste of his lover’s skin. He widened his mouth and took the whole head in, swirling his tongue. Fenris let out a long breath and buried one hand into his hair. He didn’t pull or direct his motion, just grounded himself with that grip. Hawke continued to take more of him in, working every trick he knew to make it as good as possible. It seemed it worked, as the noises coming from above grew louder as he worked, and the hand in his hair tightened its grip. 

He used lips, tongue, hands, and throat to give Fenris as much pleasure as he knew how. He sucked his balls one by one into his mouth, then licked up the underside of his length back to the tip. He took him deep, then, swallowed Fenris down in one movement until the head of his cock hit the back of his throat, his lips wrapped around the base of his cock. Fenris buried both hands in his hair and held him down for the space of a few breaths, before finally releasing him to pull back gasping for air. When Hawke looked up, he was grinning, enjoying the shaken and hungry look on his lover’s face. He leaned back in and began working his length once more, drawing encouragement from the shallow breaths and soft moans from above. 

All in all it wasn’t long before he felt Fenris’s whole body tense and give a jerk. He let out a surprised-sounding groan and then hot fluid was filling Hawke’s mouth. He dived forward to make sure he didn’t miss any, swallowing greedily everything he could. He continuing sucking for a while, feeling almost unwilling to stop, wanting to savor every possible moment of having his mouth full of Fenris. Eventually, Fenris pulled away, tucking himself back into his clothing and retreating to his seat before the fire. 

Hawke took several deep breaths to steady himself and reached for his wine glass. He drained it before reaching for his clothing to begin redressing. Fenris watched him silently as he dressed, and then finally, they said goodnight. Fenris looked reserved, drawn inward after the intensity of their encounter. Hawke wanted, longed to reach for him, to kiss him, but some instinct told him not to. He held Fenris’ gaze as he spoke. “Till next time?”

Fenris nodded seriously, a hint of a smile on his lips. Hawke turned and left then, walking home slowly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get more intense, both sexually and emotionally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a minor warning this section includes Leandra's death, and having sex to deal with grief, which could conceivably trigger someone so...take care!

Hawke had been away from town for two nights, chasing down a lead for a contact, running into a pack of bandits, then uncovering an entire lyrium smuggling ring operating out of the Wounded Coast. He was sore and tired, just unpacking his rucksack of his gear when a polite knock sounded from the middle of his bedroom door.

“Yes, Bodahn?” he called.

“You have a guest, Messere.” Hawke sighed, but knew Bodahn wouldn’t bother him if it wasn’t someone allowed in, so he opened the door to see Fenris, looming behind his dwarf servant. Hawke smiled at him.

“Thanks, Bodahn,” he said, and the dwarf headed back towards the stairs. Fenris met his eyes as he moved into the room, a smirk curving his lips as Hawke closed the door behind him. “Hi,” he said, smiling at the elf who still stood quite close to him. 

“Hi,” Fenris echoed, and then he took a step closer and Hawke’s breath caught. He clenched his hands into fists, to remind himself not to move his arms, despite the urge to catch him in an embrace. Fenris leaned into him and then, a bit awkwardly, pressed his lips over Hawke’s. It was a quick thing, a peck, really, before the elf pulled away, but it was the first time he’d greeted him this way. Hawke found himself grinning from ear to ear.

“Miss me?” he asked, teasing a little. Fenris’s ears flushed pink in the candlelight. He didn’t reply but turned away into the room. Hawke strode over to the bed and sat, looking up at him with anticipation. “Is anything wrong? I’ve barely been back for an hour and you’re already here.” 

Fenris didn’t look at him. “I ran into Varric and he said you were back.” Hawke nodded. 

“So?” he asked, leaning back on his arms. “Was there something you needed?” He let his eyes and his lips add the insinuation to the question. Fenris scowled at him, but there wasn’t sincerity behind the look. 

“Perhaps,” he replied, looking away as if uninterested in Hawke’s form lounging in front of him.

“I’ve bathed already,” he offered, reclining even further, the silk of his pajamas clinging to his skin. “So I’m all ready for bed.” Fenris’s brows drew down even further in mock censure of his flirting. 

“Well,” said the elf at last, leaning against the wall opposite Hawke’s bed. “I see this rope in your pack.” Hawke cocked his head, confused for an instant. And then he flushed and raised his brows. Fenris watched his reaction before continuing. “How would you feel about me putting it to use?” 

“To tie me up?” Hawke asked, heat already pooling in his groin. “I’ve never, uh, done that before. In bed, at least. I’ve been tied up loads of times.” 

“I think,” said Fenris slowly, carefully. “It might be enjoyable for both of us.” That was all it took for Hawke’s pulse to skyrocket. He was on board. 

“Yeah,” he said, and it sounded a little too eager. He dropped his tone. “Whatever you want, Fen. You know that.” Fenris reacted to those words, although Hawke couldn’t entirely read him. His teeth pressed into his bottom lip for a moment before he moved away from the wall and bent down to grab the rope from Hawke’s pack. 

“Take off your clothes,” he said, a familiar instruction now, one that served to bring Hawke to full hardness. He shivered and then sat up to unbutton his shirt enough so he could pull it over his head. In another moment his pants followed as well as his house shoes. Soon he was stretched out on his bed, entirely nude, trying for an artless but sexy pose. He didn’t mistake the hunger in Fenris’s gaze as his eyes moved over him. 

The elf jerked his head at the head of the bed. “Move up.” Hawke obeyed, scooting up until he leaned against the pillows. Then he stretched his hands over his head, wrists together. 

“Like this?” he asked, innocently. He could barely hold back a laugh of joy. Fenris gave him an indulgent shake of his head, but his lips were curved as he did. 

“No,” he said, coming around to the side of the bed. He grabbed Hawke’s left wrist and pulled it towards him. “I think we’ll be tying you to these posts.” And he did, carefully looping the rough hemp rope several times around Hawke’s wrist, tying a complicated looking knot, and then securing the rope to the post at the corner of his sturdy oak bed. He pulled out a knife and cut the excess rope.

“Hey!” objected Hawke without any real heat. “That was a perfectly good rope!” 

“I’ll buy you a new one,” retorted Fenris flatly. He proceeded to tie Hawke’s other wrist to the opposite post, stretching him tautly between the two. The stretch in his arms and across his shoulders felt pleasant, and the feeling of helplessness woke something in him. His cock seemed to grow even harder. Fenris looked down at him and then moved to the foot of the bed and reached for one of his ankles. “Think we need to secure these too,” he said as he began wrapping Hawke’s ankle with rope. 

Hawke’s breath quickened as he realized he would soon be entirely at Fenris’s mercy. This was new. This was different. Trussed up like this he wouldn’t be able to do anything. Wouldn’t be able to touch himself, or follow any instruction. If Fenris had any intention other than to leave Hawke like this, hard and desperate, it meant he would be the one doing the touching. 

_Oh god,_ Hawke wanted that. Wanted to feel Fen’s hands on him. So far those moments had been fleeting and in the heat of passion. He wanted Fenris to touch him deliberately. 

By the time he was bound to all four pillars of the bed, Hawke was nearly panting with need. “Fenris” he moaned, trying to arch himself off the bed, silently begging. 

“Hawke,” replied the elf, tone dry. Hawke groaned. “Is there something you want?”

“Need,” he corrected. “Need you.” He lifted his hips again, as far off the mattress as he could given the ropes holding him down. Fenris watched, eyes glittering in the firelight. He placed a hand on one of the posts at the foot of the bed. “Please, Fen,” Hawke begged shamelessly. 

“Please what?” Fenris looked far too pleased with himself. It was so hot.

“Please touch me! Please!” Hawke’s voice broke on the last word, needy. He knew, vaguely, in the back of his mind, that he should probably feel ashamed of begging like this, of his complete loss of control. But there was something about these little carved out pieces of time when he and Fenris were alone that made it safe. He was unrestrained when they were together. Despite the rope currently digging into his wrists and ankles. 

Fenris grinned in response to his abject begging, then climbed up onto the bed, in between his legs. He brought his hands out in front of him, then slowly lowered them, until they hovered over Hawke’s thighs. A growl escaped Hawke’s throat, and he thrashed his head from side to side. Then, with a laugh, finally, Fenris laid his hands on the fronts of Hawke’s thighs. 

His hands felt cooler than they should be, still chilled by the night, but warmer than the air. Goosebumps rose on Hawke’s skin, hair raising all along his legs and arms. “Oh, Maker,” he moaned. Fenris slid his hands up, his thumbs tracing along his sensitive inner thighs. It took every bit of self-control Hawke had not to jerk his hips up, to keep lying flat on the bed, passive while Fenris did as he pleased. 

His hands moved up and up, past the point where his legs joined his pelvis, skirting over the skin on either side of his throbbing cock, over the bones of his hips, to his belly. They stopped at his waist, holding him on either side for a moment. It felt so satisfying, to be held for even a brief time.

Fenris looked up at him, and there was a connection between them. Both trembling and barely holding on, both full of need and desire, and yet experiencing these simple touches for the first time. Fenris leaned forward slowly, bending over him and then pressing his lips to the hollow of his ribs, pressing a tender kiss to his flesh. Hawke felt entirely breathless, stunned. He was grateful when Fenris looked away after that, feeling the pressure of the intimacy withdrawn, even as the elf stared at his cock. A hand embraced his member then, sudden and shocking, and he cried out. Fenris stroked him firmly, and Hawke could only gasp and pant and murmur words of praise as the need he’d felt was finally met. 

Fenris seemed to be experimenting with different touches: now stroking him hard and now soft. A thumb rubbing across his slick head, a light teasing at his slit. Soon it all blended together, waves of sensation urging the fire inside him to grow higher, pulling the pleasure up from his core. 

“Are you going to come for me?” asked Fenris, the first time he’d spoken in quite a while. 

“Yes,” he gasped. “Yes, Fen...oh, Maker, don’t stop, please.” 

“I won’t,” replied Fenris and Hawke’s eyes snapped open to look at his face, suddenly distrustful. He wouldn’t put it past Fenris to stop just as Hawke approached the cliff of release. Fenris smiled. 

“You know why I won’t stop?” he continued. Hawke shook his head side to side. “Because I’m so hard right now it’s painful and as soon as you come, I’m going to do something about that.” Hawke groaned, long and loud at the thought, not knowing what his words portended, but knowing he’d probably enjoy it. An image flashed through his mind, of Fenris pushing his cock into Hawke’s ass, fucking him while he remained tied up. And it was this image that floated in his mind as he felt himself tumble over that cliff, liquid fire shooting up through him and spilling over Fenris’s hand. Fenris jerked him, hot droplets flying onto his belly and chest as he pulled against the ropes with all his might. The ropes and the bed creaked, but held, thankfully. He didn’t know how he would explain a broken bed to Bodahn. 

In the time it took Hawke to come back to himself, Fenris had pulled his pants down enough to loose his erection. He knelt on the bed, stroking himself and Hawke's attention focused in on it, wanting Fenris to join him in pleasure, imagining his seed raining down on him, painting him with it. His eyes traced the lyrium tattoos down Fenris’s thighs, the elegant lines accentuated the elf’s lean form.

But instead of remaining where he was Fenris shifted closer, crawling towards him, straddling his chest. Hawke’s stomach did a flip. Sharp edges of armor scratched at his sides, but he ignored that, because Fenris's cock approached his mouth. 

He moaned in gratitude, then opened wide to invite the intrusion. Fenris leaned forward and the head of his cock bumped into Hawke's eager lips. He did his best to suck at the head, to service him well to the extent he could move. But soon Fenris pushed past his lips into his mouth, prodded the opening of his throat. Hawke relaxed and let the elf fuck his mouth, long strokes in and out, dragging his tongue along the bottom of the shaft. 

It wasn't rough, but Fenris grabbed his head and held him still, used him as he wished. All Hawke could do was lie there, restrained from all movement, and try not to choke. He focused on the sound of the soft noises Fenris made as he fucked his mouth: the soft gasps and hisses and the panting that grew faster the longer it went on. The action of his hips grew less easy as well, stuttering and jerky, harder and less controlled. 

Hawke felt his eyes burn, felt tears escape and run down his face. He wrapped his fingers around the ropes that held him and dug in till they burned. And then, with a loud groan, he was drowning in hot liquid. Hawke choked and coughed, and Fenris jerked backwards hastily. To his shame, Hawke spilled a good amount of seed out of his mouth, but he was coughing now and unable to stop. 

“Sorry, sorry,” fretted Fenris as he patted his shoulder uselessly. Hawke shook his head, unable to speak his reassurance. Giving up on trying to thump him on the back, Fenris pulled his knife again and sliced one wrist free. Hawke brought it to his face and coughed into it, wiping the mess from his lips and chin. 

Fenris clambered off him and stood next to the bed. “Should I untie you?” he asked. Hawke shook his head. 

“Not unless..” He had to pause to swallow. “Not if you're not finished with me.” He watched Fenris's eyes trace down his body, lingering over his cock, which was half-hard again already. 

Hawke smirked and gave a cough of laughter. When he had Fenris's attention again he said, “I really _enjoyed_ sucking your cock.” He lifted his hips a little to drive his point home. “You wouldn't leave me unsatisfied, would you?” This was a little riskier. He tried not to push, not to demand in any way. Not to use his desire as a prod. But things had been going so well, and perhaps his still very vulnerable position allowed him to be a little more aggressive with his words. 

“What do you want?” asked Fenris, and it was quiet and slightly breathy. Hawke studied his face. He wasn't sure what it held. 

“As always,” he said gently, “only ever what you wish.” He shook his hand a little, shaking the dangling rope in the air. “But if you ask me, you need to tie this hand back up and...continue having your way with me.” He barely finished the sentence. His words felt heavy in his mouth, weighted, and he hoped Fenris read them for what they were: permission. He would give him anything, allow anything. Wanted it, ached for it. 

There was a long moment in which they merely looked at one another. “Also I would love a sip of water,” he added, breaking the tension at last. Fenris smiled and turned to the sideboard to pour from the decanter. He handed the glass to him and Hawke drank greedily. Then the glass was taken from him and without further discussion, Fenris was looping fresh rope around his wrist and tying his knots again. 

Hawke practically vibrated with anticipation. His cock was not only fully hard, but leaking again. He didn't know what was coming, but he knew he would enjoy it. Fenris finished with the rope and knelt next to him, his face shuttered. Then he stood and put his back to Hawke. For a moment Hawke wasn't sure what he was doing, and then he realized those sounds were his armor being unbuckled. Fenris removed the gauntlets from his hands and then sat to unfasten his greaves. The process took a good amount of time, as Hawke well knew. Finally he removed his breastplate and set it aside on the floor. When he turned back to face the bed, he looked smaller, far less intimidating, and it made Hawke's heart burn. He wanted to gather Fenris in his arms, feeling only that thin shirt between them, wanted to kiss him and roll around with him across the mattress. His arms strained at the ropes, such was the urge to reach for him. 

Fenris knelt at his side once more. His hand stretched out and barely touched Hawke's chest, in the center, stroking down lightly. Hawke let his eyelids fall shut as he arched into the touch. Careful fingers touched his chest, two hands, stroking gently, testing his reaction in different places. When he touched too far to the side, Hawke cried out objection and opened his eyes. “Ticklish,” he gritted out and Fenris smiled, a little wickedly. 

“You shouldn't tell me those things,” he said. “I could use them against you.” Hawke tilted his head in acknowledgment. 

“It's true. I'm at your mercy. You could torture me with feathers... or knives, if you want.” And that made Fenris stiffen. It wasn't a big reaction, just something in his spine went rigid that had been loose. Hawke sucked in air and bit his lip in regret. He wanted to apologize, but also feared speaking it aloud would be the wrong thing to do. Would make it real. So he bit his lip and sent a remorseful look in Fenris's direction. The tension lingered in the air for several long breaths. 

“Fen,” he said quietly. 

“Mm?”

“Can I have a kiss?” He hadn't thought about it before he said it, but it seemed it hadn't been the wrong thing, because Fenris leaned down and pressed their lips together. He even lingered a bit, Fen sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, before letting go and sitting back. When he was settled back on his heels everything felt better again, the air cleared of the ghosts of the past. And a warm, sword-calloused hand was on his chest again. 

Soon fingers were brushing his nipples, the left and then the right and then both at once. Strumming over them like Fenris was playing an instrument and his gasps were the music. Then, suddenly, without warning he pinched the left hard, and Hawke shouted. His cock throbbed as the fingers held him in a vise grip for several long seconds, pulling cruelly. He whined and protested loudly, but Fenris only grinned. Which was fine because the pain was seemingly connected directly to his cock. He felt the hot drops hit his stomach as it leaked. Fenris released his hold.

“Fuck,” he panted. Fenris smiled. Then he bent down and licked his throbbing, hot nipple with his long tongue. Hawke's body tried to lift off the bed entirely at that. “Fen!” The elf merely turned to his other nipple and began tugging and pulling at it. This went on for a while, back and forth until Hawke began to legitimately wonder if he could come from having his nipples played with. He didn't, though, and finally Fenris took pity on him, or grew bored perhaps, and let his abused and swollen nipples be. 

He repositioned himself much lower, closer to Hawke's knees. He began touching and stroking his legs, sliding hands up his thighs, then up his inner thighs. Not going too high, just touching. It was wonderful and terrible at once. Hawke felt such intense pressure in his cock and balls, craved some attention or touch, and yet, he could see that Fenris was enjoying himself. And he was enjoying himself as well; just having Fen's hands on him was a near miracle. Fenris used his nails to lightly scratch down the insides of his thighs, making him moan and jerk his hips. 

And then those hands slid higher, and fingers teased him where his thighs joined. Light touches against the bottom of his balls, and when he tried to press down into the touch, they disappeared. But then a finger against the sensitive skin behind his sac, and then sliding down, pressing between his cheeks, to touch his opening. Hawke panted as Fenris looked up at him, gauging his reaction to the touch of his finger.

“Please,” he breathed. 

“Yes?” asked Fenris, just barely moving that digit against him. 

“Yes,” he replied emphatically. 

“Alright,” Fenris said and pulled away. He went to the ropes binding his ankles to the footboard and untied them both from the posts. Hawke raised his legs, bending his knees and stretching, shaking them out. He didn't know what Fenris intended exactly, but if he needed to hold his legs up to his chest without using his arms he would do it, no matter how difficult it became. 

It turned out he didn't need to, because Fenris instead brought the ropes attached to his ankles up to the headboard. He pulled Hawke's leg up straight until his hips were lifting off the bed and then tied off the rope to the upper bedpost. When he finished with the second rope Hawke's hips were several inches from the mattress and he felt extremely exposed. Fenris apparently appreciated the view, because when he knelt at the bottom of the bed he took a good amount of time just staring at him, eyes roaming over his lower half. Hawke's heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't move at all, could barely thrash his hips, but Fenris could do so many things to him. He wanted all of them. 

"Look at you." Fenris's voice was smooth and silky, and it brought heat to Hawke's cheeks, knowing himself so exposed. 

"I hope you're going to do more than look," he quipped. The elf smiled at him. 

"Where would you like me to touch?" he asked, raising one hand and wagging his fingers in the air. "If you had to choose." Hawke's eyes slid closed and he groaned. 

"You know damn well I want you to touch more than one place," he said, jaw clenched. 

"Where?" repeated Fenris. Hawke breathed through his nose, struggling to maintain control. He wanted to beg, to scream at the smug elf kneeling between his legs. And yet…

"Wherever you want," he gritted out. Fenris's brows raised and Hawke mirrored the expression. Aggressively throwing control back to him, refusing to dictate any terms at all. 

"Well," said Fenris with exaggerated consideration. "There's here, of course." He ran two fingers up Hawke's cock from base to tip. Hawke thrashed in his bonds, his cock leaping up in reaction to the light sensation. "It looks so hard and desperate, weeping and red." Hawke panted, letting out something like a whimper. "Or here," and Fenris gripped his balls, squeezing. It was a relief, any stimulation a blessing to relieve the ache. But soon his hand was moving on, moving lower. "Or here." Now his fingers were pressed again at his entrance. Hawke's hips twitched in reaction. 

"There's oil in the drawer" he said. Fenris smiled, something genuine shining in his eyes. He moved to the bedside table and pulled open the drawer. 

"Oh," he said. "Not just oil." His hand emerged from the drawer holding Hawke's carved stone phallus. 

Hawke raised his shoulders in a shrug. "Got to have something to keep me company on the lonely nights." 

"Mmm, that's an image. Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, buggering himself furiously with a rock." The amusement in Fenris's eyes brought warmth flaring to life in Hawke's chest.

"Well, do you have a better alternative?" he tried, aiming for sultry. 

"Hold on, I'm still trying to decide if I'm going to use this on you or not." Hawke groaned. 

"Fen," he complained. 

"I thought it was whatever I wanted?" Now the elf's tone was arch. 

"I'll beg if you want," he retorted. "Do you want me to beg you to fuck me, Fenris?" He saw that hit home, saw Fenris's breath catch. "Please, Fen," he started, chanting his hips as best he could. "Please, I want you inside me." 

All of a sudden, Fenris was close, right in his face. "Shut it," he growled, and then kissed him. It was a kiss with a lot of teeth and moaning. Then just as suddenly as he’d kissed him, he pulled back and settled back onto his knees close to Hawke's ass. 

The cork popped free from the vial of oil and then slippery fingers touched and circled his hole. Hawke did his best to make encouraging sounds. Soon one and then two fingers slipped into him. Fenris took his time preparing him, erring on the side of too gentle rather than too rough, but Hawke didn't complain. He let his eyes close and his head fall heavy against the pillow and tried to let himself float and enjoy the sensations. 

His only instruction came when Fenris brushed past his most sensitive spot and he shouted, "There! Oh, there, up, yes…" Fen stroked over and over at that place until a puddle of release formed under the head of his cock and Hawke was nearly incoherent. 

"Should I make you come?" Fenris asked, voice rough. Hawke looked at him, saw how wild-eyed he looked. 

"No," he gasped. "Please, Fen, I need you." And without warning, the fingers were ripped from him. He keened at the loss, the sudden empty feeling, but the cork sound came again and his heart pounded with anticipation. "Please…" he repeated. 

The next touch to his hole was from the blunt, thick head of Fenris' cock. He locked eyes with him right before the elf pushed in. God, it was incredible. It'd been a long time for him. A long time since he'd taken anything warm and soft and alive like this. Fenris bent over his body as he sank into him, biting his own lip, face locked into concentration. 

"Maker, Fen, yes…" he moaned as the cock shifted back and forth, opening him up a little more with each thrust. Fenris was still going slow, letting them both adjust. Hawke strained against the ropes holding his arms, wishing he could reach out for him, hold him, pull him into a kiss. Fenris's expression looked a bit lost, but his body moved with confidence. Thin, strong hands dug into his waist as they moved together. The fabric of Fenris’s shirt scratched against his thighs and teased at his sensitive cock with each rock of his hips.

Soon Hawke was entirely breathless, the press of the length inside him getting him close to release already. Fenris groaned, long and low and his body shook with it, then his hips began to move faster, harder. His control was evidently close to snapping. They both cried out as their bodies crashed together and then after a long moment balancing on the edge Hawke crashed over it, shooting hot drops between them. Fenris kept fucking him, driving his pleasure higher, making him gasp and beg for mercy, and then his hips stuttered and warmth filled him. 

Fenris made a broken sound as he came, a sob torn from his chest like he was mortally wounded. And then, after a long shivering, shuddering, frozen moment, he collapsed onto Hawke’s chest, dead weight. 

They panted, both of them, but Hawke was beginning to find the ropes binding him a problem. His legs were going numb from being suspended. He began to be concerned that Fenris had really lost consciousness. 

"Fen," he said quietly. 

"Mmm." 

"Fen?" There was a stirring. "Fen, sorry, but could you untie me?" 

“Oh,” said Fenris in a small voice and then moved to release him from his bonds. His legs ached as they collapsed to the bed. As the ropes came free from his wrists, his arms reached for Fenris hungrily. He pulled the elf down to rest on top of him and held him tight. Belatedly, he realized that may be a problem.

“Is this okay?” he asked. Fenris nodded against his chest. They were both breathing hard and Hawke could feel sweat soaked through the back of Fenris’s shirt as he stroked him. 

After a time, Fenris murmured, “I’ve never done that before.” It took a second for his meaning to sink in.

“Oh,” said Hawke carefully. “You...don’t mean the ropes?” 

A huff of laughter brushed his skin. “No.” 

“Oh. Well, I wouldn’t have known.” He felt Fenris make a shrugging motion, or maybe a nod. Something non-committal. They lay together in silence for several minutes, but after a while, Hawke realized he could feel Fenris trembling, and it wasn’t stopping. 

“Fen?” he said. “Are you alright?” Fenris shifted, as if trying to make himself smaller, bending his head further down. 

“I...I started to remember something. From before. Before the lyrium.” His voice was flat, careful.

“Remember...when? Just now?”

“Hmm. During...I think it _wasn’t_ my first time.” 

“Oh. Is that...good?” He was fairly sure Fenris’s posture wasn’t positive. He didn’t answer, just continued breathing deliberately. 

“It’s gone now,” he said at last. “I...I don’t know if...if I want to remember it.”

“Why not?” Hawke was surprised into asking. “If it...I feel like if it were me, I’d want to know.”

“I can’t think of...I can think of a lot of things I’d be better off not knowing about myself.” The words were said with a dry, bitter twist that was typical of Fenris, but Hawke felt chilled by them. He knew their lives had been very different but when he imagined a past for Fenris, he thought of family and friends, maybe a love. Fenris apparently thought of darker possibilities. And perhaps he was right to. Perhaps the only thing waiting for him were more nightmares, more horrors to bear. He already had far too many. 

“Hawke?” said Fenris, finally looking up at him, pulling him from his train of thought. 

“Hmm?”

“You went quiet. I’m used to always hearing your opinion.” This last was delivered with a quirk of his lips. 

“I...I still say I think I’d want to _know_ for better or worse. But...then again you have enough to bear already.” The elf’s eyes flicked away from his at that, frown lines forming between his brows. He pushed up to a sitting position. 

“I don’t know if...if we continue this, I fear I’ll remember more.” 

“And there we hit a snag because I _really_ want to continue this,” Hawke said, sitting up himself. Fenris didn’t look at him but stared down at the blanket between their bodies. 

“I need to think about this,” he said quietly. His eyes flicked up and Hawke had to choke back a sound at the pain and fear in them, hidden behind a wall of calm. He hated to see that look in his lover’s eyes.

“I...” he began, then stopped himself. He knew this wasn’t a battle he could fight. He swallowed and took a centering breath. He reached out to stroke Fenris’s silver hair, pleased when the elf met his gaze again. “I love you,” he said calmly. He watched the widening of his lover’s eyes, then the flinch of pain that crossed his face. Fenris bent his head forward as if struck from behind, but then leaned close to Hawke, bringing their foreheads together. His hand gripped the back of Hawke’s neck and they simply sat there together, breathing into the same space, the moment frozen.

Hawke’s chest ached, knowing Fenris was responding to his words, acknowledging them as best he could. After a long, long minute, Fenris straightened and pulled away. “I’m going to go,” he said, and Hawke nodded even as he felt it like a barb in his heart. The elf dressed quickly, Hawke watching him quietly the entire time. 

As he approached the door, Fenris turned. “I’ll see you,” he said. Hawke wanted to object, but he bit back the words. He nodded, throat too knotted to speak. Fenris turned and left, just like that.

Hawke fell back against the pillows, fisting his hands into the sheets. His heart thudded in his chest, his instincts screaming at him to chase, to run, to grab Fenris and demand he stay. He felt a flare of anger that he couldn’t just hold him close and not let him leave. But he fought against all of those feelings, forcing himself still, knowing how important it was to let Fenris walk away, no matter how much it hurt.

* * *

And then the horror came. The frantic chase, the dawning realization that his mother was taken, in danger. And then...the abomination, the rage, and the endless pool of grief and regret and horror.

“I don’t know what to say, but I’m here.” Fenris sat next to him on the bed and Hawke felt something inside him break having him so near. Fenris reached for him, touching him first on his shoulder and then, when he leaned in, wrapping his arms around him.

Hawke cratered and let himself fall into Fenris’s arms, the tears starting to slide down his face silently as he clutched at his lover. Neither of them spoke for a long time, just held onto one another. Finally, Hawke slipped into a light doze, his head pillowed on Fenris’s shoulder.

When he blinked his eyes open he realized time had passed. “What time is it?” he asked, and his voice was rough.

“Nearly dawn,” said Fenris, cool and collected. Hawke peered up at him and marveled at the elf’s regal poise, not looking tired or sleepy, as if holding Hawke while he cried himself to sleep was something he did every night. 

“Sorry,” he said. Fenris smiled.

“What for?” he asked. Hawke just shook his head. His heart filled with emotion as he continued to stare at Fenris. He felt words pile up in his throat, words he wanted desperately to say: _I love you, please don’t leave me, promise you won’t die_ but he knew saying any of them would more than likely drive Fenris away either physically or metaphorically, so he swallowed them down and felt his eyes water again. 

As the tears started to fall again, he hid his face against the elf’s chest, but Fenris make a small noise of distress. “Can I do anything?” he asked softly. Hawke once again felt the torrent of words behind his lips. He cleared his throat. 

“Make me feel something else?” he asked, looking up pleadingly. Understanding dawned across Fenris’s face and he nodded. He slid down as Hawke reached for him, pulling him into a kiss. He couldn’t seem to stop the tears from falling and he tasted the salt even as he groaned hungrily into his lover’s mouth. 

Fenris met his hunger with his own, breaking off finally to kiss down his throat, both of them fumbling with clothing. Hawke felt strong hands turning him as Fenris took up a position behind him, tugging his trousers and drawers down, the cool night air hitting his ass. Fenris pushed him to his knees and spread his cheeks, but then Hawke cried out as he felt the elf’s warm breath against his opening. A hot tongue swirled against his skin, circling, dipping in, lapping, Hawke moaning and gasping at the unfamiliar sensation. 

It had been a long time since anyone had done this for him. It wasn’t something he would ever have asked of Fenris or ever expected to be offered. And yet, Fenris was lapping at him eagerly, pressing his face closer as his tongue delved deeper, opening Hawke up slowly. For his own part, Hawke was sobbing into the mattress, half moans of pleasure, half sounds of grief. His cock was growing harder, though not nearly as quickly as usual. 

“Gods, Fen, fuck,” he moaned, “Oh, fuck, I want you in me.” Fenris didn’t react, just pressed more of his tongue into Hawke’s body. The delicious intrusion had awoken a need, however, and he needed more. “Please, Fen, fuck me, I need it.”

His lover pulled back enough to ask, “Now?” 

“Yes! I...I can’t wait, please.” He suddenly felt a thrum of fear, a reminder that Fenris could be vicious about making Hawke wait for what he wanted. He didn’t know if the usual rules applied here, and he felt dizzy for a moment. 

“Alright,” Fenris said, though, and he exhaled in relief. Fenris got up from the bed. He shed his armor quickly and then went to the drawer of the bedside table, extracting the bottle of oil and coming back to kneel behind him again. He started to drizzle oil on his fingers, to press one into him slowly, but Hawke shook his head.

“No, just...fuck, I need it, Fen. Just go ahead.” Fenris went still for a moment, his finger still halfway inside him. 

“Patience, Hawke,” he said in a soft voice. “Just wait.”

“Can’t,” he groaned, thrusting back against his hand.

“You can, because this is going to feel really good. Okay? Just don’t worry about it and I’m going to make you feel good, alright?” Fenris never talked to him in that voice. Definitely not when they were in bed. His voice had none of the edges that made Hawke so hard. But it was comforting, and Hawke forced himself to relax a little. 

Another finger pressed into him and he groaned at the stretch of it, the burn. Fenris pushed his fingers deep, then hooked them down and found the most sensitive spot. Hawke’s muscles relaxed further, liquid sensation running down his thighs. Fenris did make him feel good, working his fingers expertly until Hawke was gasping and biting at the bedding. 

When he pulled his fingers free, Hawke raised his head a little and looked back. “Now, though? Fuck me?” And Fenris nodded, already slicking his cock with oil and taking up a position between his thighs. The blunt head of his cock pressed against his opening and he hissed with pleasure. His body gave way and Fenris sank in with a long, slow slide, all the way in until his body came to a jerking stop against Hawke’s. 

“Yesss. Fen, yes.” Fenris started moving, long strokes, pushing against the tight spots deep inside him, making Hawke grunt in appreciation. “Yes, harder,” he begged, wanting more of that sensation, that pleasure-pain. His lover responded, snapping his hips forward, his motions punctuated by Hawke’s breathy cries. Once again he was making noises that were nearly sobs, pleasure-pain, happy-sad, his chest just a ball of emotion. He pressed his face to the mattress, giving himself over completely, delighting as Fenris pushed him down, the weight on his back growing. 

He didn’t know how long it went on, time stretching and blurring and his world narrowing to the feeling of the cock in his ass, the hot breath on his back, the sheets bunched in his hands. Eventually Fenris’s rhythm grew irregular, his breathing more desperate. 

“Fuck, Hawke, I’m going to come,” he gritted out. 

“Yes, yes, do it,” he encouraged, pressing back to meet his thrusts. In a short few seconds, he felt the moment his lover tipped over the edge, his thrusts stuttering to a stop and a rush of heat filling him. “Yes, fuck, yes, Fen,” he moaned, thrilled to feel it. Fenris’s body slumped onto him, his full weight pressing him deeper into the bed, and it gave Hawke a feeling of peace. 

After some long moments of stillness, as Fenris’s breathing steadied and his cock grew soft within him, he finally pushed up and withdrew. He lifted on Hawke’s hip and urged him to roll over, looking towards his groin with intent. Hawke felt a wave of embarrassment as Fenris took in his cock, only semi-hard.

“Sorry,” he said, which earned him a fierce frown. Fenris reached for him, and Hawke caught his wrists and shook his head. “It’s...don’t. It’s not...” The elf frowned at him but allowed Hawke to pull him back up his body. He settled himself once more on the elf’s shoulder, and sighed to feel the wiry arms encircle him again. 

“I...I was supposed to make you feel good,” said Fenris quietly.

“You did! Really. That was great.” He could see that Fenris was still frowning. “There’s just too much...going on in me right now.” 

“I wanted to please you.” Fenris’s voice was small, unhappy. 

“You did,” he insisted again. “That was so good. Exactly what I wanted.” 

“I could...use my mouth?” Hawke tensed as a spike of want went through him at the words, but he exhaled and shook his head. 

“No...I...I wouldn’t appreciate it right now.” He smiled and kissed the closest bit of Fenris he could reach. He felt the force of Fenris’s exhalation against his hair, but the body under him went slightly more relaxed. They lay pressed together, their breathing syncing and slowing together. Hawke felt an ache deep in his chest that only grew as he thought of Fenris.

“Will you promise me something?” he said at last, not able to abide keeping all his thoughts to himself.

“Mmm, not without hearing what it is,” said Fenris, sounding much more like himself with a hint of suspicion in his voice.

“Will you promise me not to leave?” he asked, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “Not without telling me?” They were both still for several seconds.

“Is that...” began Fenris, then stopped. “Yes, I promise,” he said with conviction. Hawke felt something in his chest loosen, warmth spreading out to his limbs. There were several more moments of silence before his lover spoke again. “Is that something you’re worried about?” he asked. 

“Uh, yes,” he replied. “I have. I’ve been afraid that...one day I’d show up and you just wouldn’t...be there.” He gave a slight shrug. “Maybe it’s silly.” 

Fenris seemed to consider for a moment. “I won’t leave without telling you,” he said firmly. “If I suddenly disappear, it’s safe to assume foul play,” he added with a hint of a smirk.

Hawke huffed a laugh. “Good to know. If you go missing, I’ll send out a search party.”

“Come and rescue me like the strapping hero you are?” Fenris’s voice was amused now. 

“Of course,” he agreed.

“And if I’m dead, kill the bastard that did it. Especially if it was Danarius.” 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll definitely kill him regardless.” 

“Wait! If I’m _not_ dead, you have to let _me_ kill him,” Fenris bristled.

“Right, right. You have dibs. But if for some reason you can’t, and I have the opportunity--”

“--Take the shot,” said Fenris with a nod. 

“No problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please give me feedback, it means everything! 
> 
> The next and final chapter should be up within a few days.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke recovers from the loss of his mother and he and Fenris grow closer.

The days crawled past, filled with reminders of what had happened to his mother, reminders that made his chest seize up so painfully he thought he might die. His friends did their best to distract him. He hated the way they watched him, the looks they gave him and each other when they thought he couldn't see. But he was also deeply grateful to them for trying. For not leaving him alone in that empty house. 

And he was most grateful to Fenris, who ensured he didn't spend a single night alone. He basically moved into the Hawke estate, except for the times they were both out traveling. Hawke pursued each excuse to get out of the city with a passion, striking down foes until his arms ached and he was exhausted enough to sleep, with Fenris pressed close to him. When he woke from vague nightmares of his mother's lifeless face, he shook and wept into Fenris's chest. 

They touched each other more than ever before, with Fenris taking the role of comforter and support. They kissed as well, long and slow, until their lips were raw. Fenris left marks on his skin: dark blooms on his neck and throat. But that was the extent of their physical affection in the days and weeks after Hawke's mother's death. After that first desperate time, Hawke couldn't work up the energy and the desire for anything more, and Fenris didn't push him. 

Until one night after a gathering at the Hanged Man, where Isabella and Varric had told loud, raucous tales and they'd been plyed with drink after harsh drink. They were both tipsy, though Hawke more than Fenris. And when they fell into bed together their kissing turned hotter than usual. Fenris reached down and grabbed at Hawke's ass. Hawke instinctively shifted his thigh, giving him better access, wrapping his leg over the other's hip, grinding into him. He was getting hard, and gasped to feel Fen's cock rock solid against him. The elf thrust into him, moaning against the skin of his neck. 

"Go ahead," Hawke whispered. "I'm yours." He knew it'd been difficult for Fenris to hold back all this time, when their passion had burned so very hot from the beginning. But the elf stopped and pushed up onto his elbows, looked down on him with concern. 

"Are you sure? We don't have to." 

Hawke smiled at him and nodded. "Come on, Fen, I know you want to have your way with me." His grin was sly, and he pressed his hips forward again to underline the offer. Fenris's breath caught and his eyes fluttered shut. "You want to fuck me, don't you Fen?" 

Fenris pulled back and pierced him with a fierce glare. "Perhaps," he said, voice gone low and dangerous. "Perhaps I want to make you wait for it." His voice was confident, but there was something softer in his eyes, a question. 

Hawke smiled and stretched his arms over his head, wrists together. "Are you going to tie me up?" he asked. He shifted his body against the mattress, as alluring as he knew how. His breath was starting to go shallow and he felt a burn in his groin that hadn't been there in a while. 

"Do you want me to?" returned Fenris, quiet. Hawke considered. These past days had let him touch and explore Fenris's body in ways he hadn't been able before. He'd loved it, and gotten used to it. He wanted to hold him and touch him while they fucked. But it might be too much for Fenris. The last thing he wanted was any unpleasant reminders for either of them

"It's up to you," he said, keeping his hands above his head. "I don't mind being helpless before you." 

Fenris gave him a long evaluative look. "Can you hold them there if I tell you?" His eyes flicked to the carved wooden headboard. "Hold on there and not move, no matter what?" 

Desire flared in his core. He wanted to follow those orders, to be good for Fenris. He knew it would be a challenge; that's what made his cock harden as he thought about it. "I will try," he said, voice shaky. He wrapped his fingers around the rounded edge of the wood. "I'll hold on," he said, convincing himself as much as Fenris. The elf nodded solemnly. 

"If you let go, I stop," he said in warning. Hawke nodded his understanding. 

Fenris began touching him then, tracing his finger down his bare chest, teasing his nipples. He pinched and rubbed them, savoring the soft sounds Hawke let out as he did. Meanwhile Hawke's cock was starting to ache in his trousers, straining against the fabric and making a clear wet spot in the fabric. But Fen took his time, running his hands over Hawke's ribs and abs, then lower, dipping into his belly button. His face was impassive, smooth and calm. All except his eyes, which burned like they wanted to devour his body, consume them both in fire. 

One of Fenris's hands slid lower, almost casually, to brush ever so lightly over the tent of fabric that hid his cock. Hawke groaned, writhing and pulling against the solid wooden headboard. "Fen, please," he whined. 

Fenris only smiled. He moved his hands to Hawke's thighs, spreading them wide and stroking down to his knees, over his clothing. God, wasn't he as about to burst as Hawke was? How could he stand to go so slow, to take his time like this? Hawke felt his mind loosing coherence in frustration. The desire was joining the wine to fog his thoughts. He was a physical creature now, all need and reaction. 

Fenris evidently had had as much fun as was possible with a man's clothed legs, so he returned to his ribs and stomach, touching him again. Then he bent down, lowering his head, and pressed his lips carefully to Hawke's skin, right above his belly button. Hawke whimpered. Then another kiss, and another, over and down, lips moving and lighting up his body with sensation. Then a tongue, flicking out wetly, just over the line where his trousers sat. He bucked his hips, not able to hold back. Fenris's head snapped up, pinning him with silent reproach. His elegant hands pushed down on Hawke’s hips, pressing him to the mattress.

"Don't lift up," he said. "Your hips come off the bed, I stop." Hawke trembled at the thought, his greatest fear at that moment being that Fenris would leave him like this, desperate and wanting, alone. He also knew that was very unlikely, but he couldn't chance it. Besides, he wanted to be obedient. He wanted to be worthy of Fenris's trust, to prove himself so. 

Fenris returned to mouthing over his stomach, creeping lower and lower, tugging the fabric of his trousers down an inch or so and licking the newly revealed skin. Hawke's muscles twitched and jerked under the touch but he kept himself pressed to the bed. And then, with a smirk up at him, the elf tugged loose the ties at his waist and yanked down his trousers to his thighs. Hawke's cock flopped out, red and wet and standing up away from his body. Fenris looked at it for a moment and then stroked a hand down its length, drawing a long, grateful moan from Hawke's throat. Then, to Hawke's astonishment, he gripped the member at its base and lowered his torso down, opening his mouth to take it in. 

Hawke's heart started pounding in his ears. The first touch of lips to the head of his cock nearly ruined his self-control, nearly brought him off the bed. Fenris's mouth was wet and hot and soft and perfect and he made a sound like a sob as it took him in. He took in air in desperate gulps and tried to calm himself, to focus on being perfectly still, on keeping his hands above him and not buried in Fen's silver hair. He knew this was a big deal for his lover, knew without him having to explain that this was an act he was forced to in the past. Even when Fenris had become comfortable touching him and being touched, to a certain extent, by him, this was something that was never discussed. Except for that one time in the frenzy of grief when he had offered, most likely in desperation to please Hawke.

This wasn't that. This was deliberate, careful, tender. Fenris swirled his tongue over the head of him, around the shaft, delicious movements that made him hum in pleasure. He didn't take all of him, didn't take him deep, not the way Hawke enjoyed choking on Fen's cock when he was on his knees. This was clearly meant to give him pleasure, to bring him quickly to the height of it, aided by the hand massaging his balls. Hawke's breath grew shorter, his pants coming closer together as the pressure grew more intense. He could come from this, he knew. It wouldn't take much longer. 

"I'm getting close," he said, his hips trembling. Fenris gave one more lick to the underside of his cock, flicking around his foreskin, then he lowered himself down nearly until his lips reached the curls at its base. Hawke cried out, then bit his lip and focused on not thrusting up. Fenris jerked back, pulling off and gasping for air. It was only then that Hawke realized the pressure he felt was Fenris’d hand he'd clamped hard around the base of his balls. Maybe that was why he hadn't finished, despite feeling so incredibly close to it. He closed his eyes and rolled his head, his frame shaking with stymied need. But still he kept his body flat against the bed, not taking a chance of provoking his lover. Not after he'd been offered such a gift. 

"Fen," he moaned. "Maker, you're going to kill me." He opened he eyes in time to see the smirk spread across the elf's face. 

"Why would I do that, when you're so much fun to play with?" Despite the cruel amusement that colored his voice, Fenris's eyes were warm. Hawke wanted to kiss him. He licked his lips instead. 

"Well," he said, clearing his throat as he calmed down some, "what is the next game you have planned?" Fenris just raised an eyebrow at him and climbed off the bed. "Please tell me you're not going to leave me here," he said, sounding more than a little panicked.

But Fenris only went to the drawer by the bed and pulled out the oil. "Oh," Hawke exhaled. "Good." 

"You think this means something good for you?" asked Fenris holding the bottle up. "Hmm? You think this means you get to come soon?" Hawke sucked in air, holding it in his chest at how he burned at the way Fenris was looking at him. He canted his hips, without lifting them, doing his best to beg silently. He didn't feel up to begging aloud at the moment, not without making a fool of himself. 

"Tell me what you want me to do to you," commanded Fenris. Hawke knew this was a trap; it was obvious. But he answered him all the same.

"Fuck me, please, Fenris." 

"What should I use to fuck you?" asked Fenris, his voice perfectly level, not letting any emotion through in his tone. "I have this lovely carved rock here I could use. Fuck you with that till you're bruised, couldn't I?" Hawke shuddered. "Would you like that? If I used that fake cock on you for hours and hours, no matter how much you begged me to stop?" 

Hawke rolled his knees to the side, unable to stay still under those words, that tone, the imagined torture they promised. He'd take it, if Fenris offered it, he knew. He'd let this man use him like that, would trust him if he did. Fenris had always shown in these games they played that he wanted Hawke's pleasure above and beyond even his own. He offered Hawke pleasure in the way that he could, the way he was best able to, and the fact that Hawke had found himself so incredibly aroused to be at the mercy of someone in this way, to be helpless and subject to someone else's will, well that had just urged them both on to more and greater things. 

"If you wish," he finally replied. He watched as Fen's expression broke. Apparently his submissive acceptance of his threat had taken him by surprise, though it shouldn't by now. But after a moment of wide-eyed blinking, Fenris recovered, the slight smile curving his lips once more.

"Oh, really?" he said, leaning forward to reach into the drawer again. He pulled out the phallus and drew it down the center of Hawke's chest and stomach, down. It was cold against his cock and his balls, then so cold and hard against his entrance. "You'd rather have this in you than me? Is that what you're saying?" 

Hawke gave a long groan. "No. No, I want you. Want your cock, Fen. Please, I want it so bad." He met Fenris's eyes and repeated himself. "Please." Fenris smiled and the cold stone rod was pressed forward, the pressure growing uncomfortable until his body finally opened a little to barely let it in. He held his breath, unsure if Fenris would push more without oil, knowing how painful that was likely to be. But then the object disappeared and was tossed aside. Fenris settled back on his heels and opened the vial to pour oil over his fingers. Hawke relaxed back against the mattress. 

First one and then a second oiled finger slipped into him. Fenris fucked him open with them, spreading the oil well, letting his body adapt to the stretch. Then he pressed up, curling the tips of his fingers, feeling for the bundle of nerves. When he brushed it, Hawke gasped. Fenris grinned down at him and began stroking that spot over and over. Hawke, who had eased back significantly from the edge of release, suddenly felt propelled towards that cliff once more. His cock throbbed, beginning to drip clear fluid as he was stimulated by those fingers. 

It went on and on. Fenris watched his face intently as he relentlessly fucked him with his hand, never missing a chance to touch that spot, to rub and flick and slide across it. Hawke's arms trembled, from the strain of keeping them in place and the need to reach down and touch himself. He knew one stroke of his cock would do it, would tumble himself over the edge, would give him the release he had so desperately needed for so long now. And this after weeks of celibacy! 

"Please," he begged. "Please, please, please, Fen." Those fingers never paused, just kept torturing him with pleasure. 

"Please what?" 

"Please let me come. I can't..I can't take any more." 

"Then do it," said Fenris, his brows raised innocently. "I'm not stopping you." Hawke felt hope rise in his throat even though he knew better.

"Can I move my hands?" he asked, digging his fingers into the wood harder, until they ached. 

"No." The word was light, casual. Hawke was going to strangle him. He whined, a sound that turned into a sob as fingers pressed hard into him. 

"Please," he said, and this time he was close to tears. "Please, Maker, please, just...Fen, fuck me, please. I'm going to come as soon as you put your cock in me, I swear, I'm just so fucking close." He was shuddering, the muscles of his thighs and abdomen beginning to feel weak from being clenched so much. 

"Alright," said Fenris, and he pulled his fingers free. Then he sat back and watch Hawke with a beatific expression. Hawke shook and trembled, blowing great breaths out of his lips. He almost felt like he could come just like this, with no touch, if Fenris just _said_ the right thing. But gradually, very gradually, as the elf just watched him with that infuriating expression, the intensity receded. 

“You’re such a--” he paused to breathe, “--bastard sometimes.” The corner of Fenris’s mouth lifted. Smirking was so attractive on him. 

“Oh, well, if that’s how you feel, I’ll just leave,” said Fenris, eyes dancing. Hawke strained forward, only the locked, painful clench of his fingers around the wood stopping him.

“Don’t you dare,” he warned. “Leave me like this and you and I are going to have a problem.” 

“It’s so tempting though,” replied Fenris. “You’re on such lovely display, and so flushed and desperate.” 

“You’ve had your fun,” Hawke replied, jaw tight. “Now please tell me you’re going to fuck me now, Fenris.”

“Hmm, that’s not _quite_ begging.” 

Hawke inhaled through his nose, clenching his teeth. “Please, Fen, please? I’m going to lose my mind if you don’t fill me up with your cock.” He lifted his hips as much as he could. “I feel so empty. You make me feel so good, please, Maker, pl--” His last word was cut off with a growl from Fenris as the elf grabbed onto Hawke’s thigh and pressed close to him. In another moment Hawke felt the prod of his cock against his entrance and then the glorious bliss of it sinking into him. 

It went easily, after all the teasing, just a long slide home, right past his pleasure spot. Fenris moved slowly, despite all the build, pulling out and then pressing back, just as slow as the first time. Was even this going to be torture? Drawn out until he was a babbling lunatic? 

Luckily, just as he felt like expressing his despair, Fenris moved close, leaning down and reaching to kiss him. That gave him something else to focus on, those lovely lips to lick and suck and play with. “Fen, please,” he gasped when the elf pulled away. 

“What now? I thought this was what you wanted?” Hawke gave a frantic, broken bubble of laughter. 

“Oh, Fenris, you’re so cruel to me,” he sighed, even as the cock inside him moved in a way that made him bite at his bottom lip. Fenris gave him two quick thrusts that had him gasping before slowing back down. 

“I want to make this last,” replied the elf, striving to sound composed, but his breathy tone giving away how much self-control that took. 

“Obviously,” he replied sarcastically. He let his head fall back and went limp, giving in and settling in to enjoy the ride, at whatever pace Fenris set. Whether it was that acceptance that won it for him or not, fairly soon the movements of Fenris’s hips quickened a bit. In a handful of strokes, Hawke’s breath was quick and shallow. The elusive release that had flitted about him for what felt like hours now seemed to draw close. 

“Oh, oh, Maker, Fen, I’m nearly there...” Fenris’s hips snapped hard, driving his cock right into that tender place. A long, trembling, held breath and then fire shot through him and out his cock. He thrashed in the ropes, head thrown from side to side as he screamed. Each thrust of the cock into him seemed to extend the pleasure, which went on and on. His stomach was painted with thick ropes of white, so much more than he usually produced. 

And during all of it, Fenris’s eyes were fixed to him, drinking in the sight of his orgasm. He felt seen and _cherished_ and he never wanted it to end. 

Eventually the pleasure broke like a wave and his passage grew over-sensitive. “Ah, ah,” he cried, in time with the thrusts inside him. “Fen...” His lover didn’t stop, though he did slow and wasn’t driving into him as hard as he had been. Hawke’s vision blurred. His arms ached and burned from holding onto the head of the bed. All his muscles twitched and spasmed out of his control, but he could do nothing to stop the flares of sparks deep inside him. 

Finally, Fen’s breath grew ragged and his movements frenzied until he stuttered to a frozen halt. Warmth flooded Hawke inside and out as the elf collapsed on top of him. Hawke finally let his aching hands fall, tingling from numbness, and wrapped his arms around his lover.

* * *

More time passed. Fenris continued to spend most nights in Hawke’s bed. Their touches became more common, more casual. When they made love, they touched more, held back less. Fenris remained in charge, directing Hawke and making the decisions. But Hawke didn’t fear reaching for him any more. He was able to wrap his arms around Fenris while the elf made love to him. They kissed all the time and it was glorious. 

Hawke threw himself into work, and soon the Arishok made his move. Hawke feared that was the end, thought his time had come and had few regrets. 

But he didn’t die. 

After the fight, despite the praise and laurels of the nobles, he still felt his legs shaking. Fenris noticed something and stuck close to him until they were alone in Hawke’s bedroom. 

“Fen,” he gasped and pulled the elf close for a kiss. 

“What is it?” asked Fenris after they separated. 

Hawke shook his head. “It’s just...I...I thought I was going to die.” Fenris nodded and looked at him, those silver eyes seeming to see through him.

“Were you happy about that?” 

“What? No, of course not,” he insisted. 

“Sure? I know a little something about self-destructive moods.” Hawke saw something in Fenris’ face, his eyes that made his heart skip a beat.

Hawke inhaled, frowning. “I mean...alright, point taken.” He sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face roughly. “Can you just...come here?” Fenris’ face softened at that, and he came to sit next to him. Hawke leaned his head on the other’s shoulder and wrapped both arms around his waist. He exhaled as arms surrounded him in return. 

For a minute, he just breathed there, trying to lose the jittery, panicked feeling. But there was something inside him that wouldn’t settle, that quickened the blood in his veins and made his legs vibrate with energy. 

He lifted his head and caught Fenris’s eye. Lifting an eyebrow in silent request he reached up and cupped the beautiful elf’s cheek. Slowly, he moved forward until he could press his lips to Fenris’s soft mouth. Fenris opened under his kiss, letting him lead, letting him take. He pressed his tongue into his mouth, moaning in relief as the tingling energy spread under his skin. He needed. He needed something, and this...this seemed to work. He wanted Fenris suddenly, so powerfully, with such great need. 

Before he even realized he was pushing the other back, they were lying on the bed, Fenris under him. Strong hands clutched at his sides, barely making an impression through his leather armor. Fenris’ breastplate dug into his chest, but he ignored it, needing to taste more of him. Finally, after a good amount of awkward collisions of their armor pieces, Hawke finally sat up. Fenris looked dazed as he lay on Hawke’s bed. 

“We need to get you out of this shell,” Hawke said, trailing his fingers over the curve of the breastplate.

“Right,” agreed Fenris, still a bit breathless. Hawke’s chest filled with pride that he had made him sound so stunned, so unguarded. They spent the next few minutes divesting themselves of their armor: Fenris’s metal and sharp edges and Hawke’s leather padding. Hawke didn’t stop when he reached his clothing, however, stripping off his shirt as well. He saw the way Fenris eyed him as he did. When the elf was similarly down to his final layers he pounced, straddling his legs and pushing up his tunic. 

Fenris’s stomach was exposed, his lovely skin marked with the elegant lyrium curves. He knew his lover didn’t like being reminded of those marks, didn’t like attention paid to them. So he didn’t trace them with fingers or tongue as he might if left to his own devices. Instead he pressed his lips to the center of Fen’s body, mouthing right over the trail of scant hairs leading down. He let his hand move down, too, brushing past the bulge in Fenris’s leggings, just to hear the gasp and see his hips lift from the bed a scant inch. 

Reluctantly, he moved back up, pushing up the tunic further, licking up to Fenris’s nipples. He was sensitive there, not liking more than the lightest touch, so he barely flicked his tongue over first one and then another. By the time he pulled his shirt over his head, Fenris was breathless once more. He kissed him, not feeling like he would ever get enough of his taste. 

“Fen,” he said softly, pulling back. “I love you.” He watched the slight widening of his lover’s eyes, and then the way they went soft at the corners. 

“Hawke,” he replied, the single word full of emotion. Hawke kissed him again, cutting off any more talk, knowing how difficult it was for Fenris to talk about his feelings. 

Hawke propped himself up on his elbows. “I need you,” he said, words heavy with intent. “What do you want? Let me give you whatever you want.” 

“Mmm.” Fenris arched his back into him. “Can I have your mouth?” he asked.

“You can have anything,” Hawke replied automatically, planting one more kiss on his lips. Then with a grin he slid down his body. He hovered over his erection, palming it through the leather once more. He loved the way Fenris shimmied in reaction. He loved giving him pleasure, knowing without question that Fenris enjoyed what they did together. 

He loosened the laces and pulled down his leggings to his knees. He took a moment to look at Fen’s cock, curving up against his belly. Then he lowered his head to his task and began to lick, with a long swipe of his tongue from base to right under the head. He pushed Fenris’s hips down gently when they lifted off the bed and took him between his lips.

Over time he’d learned how to heighten Fenris’s pleasure. Sometimes he liked to just grab Hawke by the hair and fuck him as deep into his throat as possible. But other times he would lie back like this and let him work. He treasured each tiny sound the elf made, each gasp and moan. When the hand landed on his head and grabbed a fistful of his hair, he knew the other was getting closer. Then, without warning, that hand tightened and yanked him up. 

He let the cock fall from his mouth reluctantly. Looking up at Fenris's eyes he saw they were shining and his lips were red and bitten. He looked half-ravaged and Hawke wanted to take him the rest of the way. He pulled against the grip on his hair and rose up Fenris's body to kiss him hungrily. His own neglected erection, still trapped in his trousers, pressed down on Fen’s wet length. He couldn’t help rutting into him. To his surprise, Fen pressed a hand to his lower back, holding him down tightly, encouraging the motion. 

“Hawke,” he moaned, a broken sound. “ _Fasta vass,_ I want you.” 

“Want me to ride you?” he asked, still bucking against the other man. 

Fenris groaned. “I won’t last in you,” he admitted. “Hawke...” He quieted and Hawke forgot his lust for a moment to cock his head in his lover’s direction. He bent down and kissed his throat lightly. “Hawke,” said Fenris again, almost a gasp this time. “Do you want me? Want to...take me, I mean?” 

That _did_ stop Hawke in his tracks. He pushed up on his arms, the movement of his hips stopping entirely. He looked down at Fenris, not sure what in the world to say. He saw a hesitance in the other’s gaze, a timidity that rarely showed in or out of bed. 

“Of course I do,” he said quietly. “I mean...” He wanted to convey both his deep attraction to the other, and his desire for any and all acts of pleasure with him, but also that it wasn’t necessary. 

“Do it, then.” Fenris met his eyes with a steely intensity. Hawke’s frown deepened. 

“You don’t have to,” he said. “Really. It’s perfectly fine if we don’t.” 

“You _do_ want it though?” Hawke exhaled a troubled breath but nodded. “Then I want that,” Fenris said with decision. “I want you in me. I’ve never...” And he finally looked away, biting his bottom lip. He took a deep breath and then turned back to him. “I want to have that with someone other than _Denarius._ I want you to erase him from me.” 

To Hawke’s surprise he felt the sting of tears behind his eyes. He blinked them away, not breaking eye contact and trying not to let his anger and grief show. “Are you sure, Fenris?” he asked, intent. 

Fen gave him a stuttering nod. “I think so.” 

“You want it now? Tonight?” This time Fenris nodded immediately, his expression firmer. 

“O-okay,” he agreed finally. “But please, please, Fen...” He took a breath. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I don’t want you...pretending for me. If it...if you change your mind, need me to stop, please--”

“I’ll tell you,” Fenris interrupted him. He had a bit of an air of a soldier heading into battle, eager to get it started. Hawke’s stomach quivered, fear moving through him. But there just simply wasn’t a world in which he didn’t try to give Fenris what he wanted, what he asked for. So he would do his best. 

He rolled free of Fenris and reached for the table at his bedside where they kept the oil. 

“Take off your clothes,” came the request from behind him. He grinned, the reminder of all their history warming him. 

“Yes, Fenris,” he replied, a slight purr in his tone. This was steadying, the flirtation, the command and response. Too much sincerity and genuine emotion, despite it’s undeniable presence, and they might never make it through. His heart ached for Fenris, so much it nearly stopped his breath, but if he fell back on cocky seduction he might survive. 

He turned his back to the bed to remove his trousers, intentionally giving Fen a good view as he bent down. Then he turned and stood, feeling the rake of those silver eyes over him almost like a touch. He gripped his erection, stroking it a couple of times, wiping away the bead of moisture escaping him with his thumb. Fenris licked his lips and Hawke suddenly had a strong mental image of the elf on his knees in front of him, sucking his cock and looking up at him. He exhaled, pushing it away. He had other goals tonight.

He climbed back on the bed and knelt close to Fenris's bent knees. He touched one knee with his hand tentatively, looking up at Fen until he was given a small nod. He very, very gently pressed his knee to the side, parted his legs, moving slowly in between them. He stroked up the insides of Fenris's thighs with his hands, his thumbs up the middle, drawing close to the crease of his pelvis. He bent his head and licked at his cock once more, then down across his balls. He continued to rub on his inner thighs as he took his balls into his mouth, first one and then the other, swirling his tongue around them. 

When he stopped and looked up he saw Fenris looking much more lustful. “Can I use my mouth on you?” he asked, flicking his eyes down to elucidate his meaning. He saw Fen’s breath catch at the suggestion. He hesitated a fraction of a moment and then nodded shakily. 

“Like this,” he said, then clarifying. “On my back.” Hawke nodded his understanding. 

“Hand me that pillow,” he asked, pointing. Fenris did, and he shoved the pillow under the elf’s lifted hips. His hands encircled his thighs and pushed up, glad when Fenris grabbed his knees and pulled them to his chest. 

Every step he watched Fen’s face, held his eyes. He could see something trembling behind the determination, but he had to trust that his lover would let him know if it got to be too much. Hawke quailed when he remember how violently Fenris had once reacted to a single kiss, but he pushed that fear away. So much had passed between them since then. So much trust given and received on both sides. What had been lust had bloomed into more, so much more that it hurt Hawke’s heart to think on it. 

He pressed up on the backs of Fenris's thighs and lowered his head down, kissing right behind the delicate skin between balls and opening. Then extended his tongue and trailed down. He felt the shivers in the legs, the trembling anticipation in his lover’s body. And then he swiped his tongue across his lover’s pucker and his whole body jerked. Hawke stopped, pulling back a little, waiting.

Fenris breathed heavily. Hawke wished he could see his face. “Go on,” said his lover, nearly a gasp or a plea. So he did. He dragged his tongue from one side to the other: first one way and then another. He lapped at the hole, flickering. Then circles. The noises coming from above were encouraging. He took his time, just teasing, just stimulating the flesh. 

“Oh, _venhadis_ , Hawke,” Fenris moaned. Hawke smiled as he continued to work with his tongue. “Hawke, fuck, yes.” His heart soared and he pressed his tongue harder, deeper, into the center. Fenris squirmed at that but he didn’t make any protest so he continued. He alternated the lapping of his tongue with the press of it into the center. Loud, wet noises filled his ears, cushioned from the rest of the world by Fenris's thighs above him. Eventually, tiny bit by tiny bit, his tongue penetrated his hole. The muscles softened, opening up just enough to let his wet tongue squirm inside. As his tongue slid deeper, penetrating through the tight ring, Fenris let out a long, broken moan. 

Hawke was ecstatic. He didn’t care about anything else; was perfectly happy if nothing more than this happened tonight. He loved making Fenris cry out like that, loved giving this to him, this new experience, this new pleasure. No one else, he knew, or thought very likely, had ever done this to him, had ever given him this. He would lick him for hours if he wanted, until he came from his tongue alone, until his jaw locked up and his tongue gave out. With that thought in mind, he continued. 

Eventually, he was fucking Fenris with his tongue, thrilling at the constant moans the other emitted. He lost track of time and only jerked back into focus when a hand tugged on his hair and pulled him away. He shifted, his neck wrenching with a flare of pain. He pushed up, rubbing his aching jaw with one hand. He sat up, stretching his shoulders and neck as he did, that is until he saw his lover’s face. Fenris looked _wrecked._ His lips were red and wet and bitten. His eyes liquid and red around the edges. His cheeks, normally such an even tan, were flushed pink and sweat rolled down from his brow. Even his ears were tinged with pink and Hawke let out a soft sound at the sight. He scrambled up, covering Fenris’s body with his own, deliciously dragging his cock up his bare frame, and latched onto one ear with his mouth. Fenris made a noise half protest and half laugh, but Hawke ignored him, sucking on the tip, feeling the heat under the skin. Fenris shoved at him and he pulled away with a popping sound. 

He looked down, grinning. “Sorry,” he said, not at all feeling it. “But your ears were _blushing_ , Fenris? How can you expect me to control myself faced with _that._ ” Fenris’s face tried for stern, but he was too out of sorts to pull it off particularly well. 

“Hawke,” he said, complaining and begging at once. “Please. I can’t take any more teasing.” Hawke grinned again, not able to suppress the pride. 

“You want me?” he asked. Fenris nodded, once more biting his lip. Hawke wanted to kiss him, but stopped. He reached for his abandoned wine glass next to the bed and swirled the wine around his mouth first. Then, he kissed his lover. Once he pulled back he sat up. “You’re not ready just yet,” he said firmly. He felt around on the bed for the vial of oil and held it up. He poured some over his fingers and smiled when Fenris pulled his knees back up to his chest.

He took it slow: inserting one finger first, all the way, working it in and out and massaging the ring of muscle from the inside. Then he added a second, watching Fenris’s reaction carefully. He didn’t see any flare or panic or pain. So he explored him with his fingers, focusing on relaxing his entrance. He also felt around for that sensitive bump. Fenris’s breath caught and his body rocked when he pressed it. He didn’t toy with him too much, but made sure to brush it every few strokes. He could feel his lover’s body relaxing the longer it went on. 

“Hawke,” whined Fenris, a growl underlying his word. “Get on with it.” 

“Hmm, not yet,” he replied, just sliding his fingers in and out. He added a third, feeling how much tighter that made things. But fairly quickly Fenris's body adjusted. “Alright,” he said at last. “You feel ready?” He received an impatient growl and nod in return. He pulled out his fingers and slicked his cock with copious amounts of oil. “Okay, Fen,” he said, lining himself up. “I’m going to go slow. Tell me if you need me to wait, or stop.” 

Fenris nodded. The sincerity of the gesture made something in his chest catch, but he moved forward all the same, pressing the head of his throbbing cock to Fenris's entrance. Slowly, so slowly, he eased forward. Fen’s breathing grew ragged. His teeth pressed into his lip until it was white. But he didn’t make a sound or give any sign of pain. He didn’t meet Hawke’s eyes, staring up at the ceiling instead. Still, Hawke pressed forward. Some instinct in the back of his mind wanted to take, to thrust, to conquer. But he wasn’t tempted to give in at all. He wanted this to be free of even the slightest moment of pain for Fenris, who had known only pain and abuse before. 

A moment’s movement and he slipped forward, Fen’s body allowing him entirely inside. Fenris gasped and Hawke froze. But eventually his lover looked at him and nodded, panting and breathless. Hawke sympathized. His heart was beating so fast he wasn’t sure he could form words either. He sank deeper, but not all the way, then slowly pulled back. 

“Hawke.” It was a low moan of pleasure. 

“Yes, my love,” he replied, stilling. 

“Oh, don’t stop.”

“Alright.” He sank in again. Still as slow as he could manage. In and out. He tried to slow his breathing to match, to hold onto his self-control, to make this last, to make it good.

“Faster,” breathed Fenris and Hawke groaned aloud, but obeyed. “Yes.” Fen’s hand seized on his upper arm. Hawke’s chest swelled with pride. This was working. He was giving Fenris what he wanted, what he’d asked for. Oh, he wanted to make him come. To _feel_ him coming all around him. 

“Deeper.” So he went deeper, bottoming out for the first time. “Oh,” gasped Fen when he did. Hawke slid his hands under Fenris's hips and tilted them, changing his angle. There. Fenris cried out. Again and again he slid into him, hitting that right place, making Fenris dig his nails into his skin. Fenris was gorgeous, all flushed and with none of his stern mask left. He gasped and moaned, his face open and full of wonder. Hawke leaned up and kissed him, sloppily. 

“Fen,” he breathed against his lips, rocking into him shallowly. 

“Hawke!” 

“I want to make you come.” He sat back, trying to find the right angle again. A whimper told him when he hit it. Then he reached down between his lover’s legs and grasped his cock. Fenris’s entire body thrashed as he started to stroke it. It was all Hawke could do to keep up his rhythm and his balance. He felt Fen tightening around him as his climax drew close. Then a few pumps later and...his back bowed and hot droplets erupted from his cock. Hawke stroked him through it, drove into him in little, short thrusts. He was right on the brink himself, and when he let Fenris's cock fall from his hand and grabbed him by both hips, it only took two more thrusts before he spilled into him. 

He panted and twitched in the aftermath. Part of him was very reluctant to leave the warm comfort of Fen’s body, but he pushed aside his selfish concerns for the more important one of Fenris. He slid out and crawled up next to his lover. Fenris hadn’t seemed to gather himself yet, so he pulled him into his arms and the smaller man went easily. Fenris’s head rested on his chest and their legs tangled together.

“Thank you,” said Fenris, quietly. 

“What?” asked Hawke, confused. “You’re thanking me?”

“Yeah,” said Fenris, small and serious. “For everything, Hawke. Really.” 

“You don’t--” he said, and then stopped, emotion rising into his throat. “You don’t have to thank me, Fenris.” He paused. “You...I’ve...” Despite his best efforts, tears rose behind his eyes. “I owe you so much,” he managed to get out, in nearly a whisper.

There was a moment’s pause, where neither of them spoke. Then, Fenris cleared his throat. “Alright. We’re both saps. We should stick to fighting and fucking, probably.” 

Hawke grinned. “It’s definitely what we’re best at.” He heard Fenris give a dry huff of laughter.

“Agreed,” he said. 

“Agreed,” Hawke echoed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. As I said before, this has been living in my WIP folder for two years, so it feels strange to finally have it done. I hope I've done these two justice as I love them so. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are love!

**Author's Note:**

> So this is part 1 of 3! The rest is written, but still needs a little editing and cleaning up. So it will be updated pretty quickly and definitely will be finished. 
> 
> I hope you're enjoying it! Please let me know how you liked it, as I've actually never written this fandom or ship before, despite it being one of my die-hard forever loves. Comments are life!


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